


SEAL Team - Whumptober 2020

by M_Mary93



Category: SEAL Team (TV)
Genre: A little late to the party, Hurt, Hurt Everybody, Hurt/Comfort, Pain, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020, physical injury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 28,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26825638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_Mary93/pseuds/M_Mary93
Summary: My shot at the 'Whumptober' challenge. A little late to the party, but I'll try to make it through this one.
Comments: 137
Kudos: 133
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	1. Let's hang out sometime - Clay

**Author's Note:**

> Like most other writers, I feed on comments.

**No 1. LET’S HANG OUT SOMETIME**  
Waking Up Restrained | Shackled | Hanging

* * *

His head whipped left as the back of someone’s hand connected with his cheek. At first it stung, then a numbness blossomed in its wake.

He drew a ragged breath. His lungs stung from the way he was hanging from his wrists, the multiple bruised or broken ribs sure didn’t help any.

In an attempt to relieve his wrists and shoulders, he tried to reach the floor with his toes. He could barely reach it when he stretched his ankles as far as he could.

“What? That’s all you’ve got?” he hated how much pain seeped through to his voice.

Another blow landed on the already severely bruised area by his lower left ribs.

He bit back most of a yelp, cussing silently under his breath.

“Not so tough anymore, boytoy?”

He had to focus on the mechanics of breathing for a few seconds, before he locked eyes with his capturer, he was struggling a bit to open his left eye properly. It was pretty swollen by now. “My grandma hits harder than that…”

He saw the man in front of him reel up for another punch, and managed to ready his abs for the blow that landed right next to his belly button.

That punch almost didn’t hurt.

From the floor above, he heard a real ruckus. Telltale sign of whoever being up there suddenly being disturbed by someone. And he was willing to bet who it was.

He was willing to bet that his team had finally come to his rescue. He heard shooting upstairs. Commandos being barked. He recognized the voices.

Somehow he managed to wrap his legs around the guy in front of him. He squeezed his thighs as hard as possible around the guy’s high waist. Hard enough to cause the man some sort of pain. “Hey, we should hang out sometime…”

Then the only door to the room burst open, and Ray and Sonny stepped inside.

“Hey kid, hanging on?” Sonny quipped as he let his gun fall to the strap and stepped forward to secure the man Clay was holding with his legs, “I’ve got this guy…”

Clay nodded and let go of the man, once again supporting all of his weight by his wrists.

A couple seconds later, after Sonny had secured the man who had beaten on Clay for hours, he was ready to help Clay down from the ceiling. 


	2. In the hands of the enemy - Brock, Full Metal and Sonny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Pick who dies', or 'pick who gets hurt'...  
> Close enough, right?

**No 2. IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY**  
“Pick Who Dies” | Collars | Kidnapped

* * *

The man who held them put a round into one of the chambers of the cylinder. He spun the cylinder and clicked it into place.

The cylinder rolled to a stop, neither of them knowing if the bullet was in the chamber which would fire or not.

“One bullet. Six chambers. 16.7% chance of getting personal experience of how it feels to be shot by a .45.” the man drawled, “83.3% chance you get a few more seconds without that experience.”

He was pretty sure the man would shoot all three of them, but every minute was one minute closer to the rest of the team coming to their rescue.

“Who’s first?” the man flashed a wicked grin, “The talkative Texan? The gray one, or the curly one?”

If it hadn’t been for the collar around his neck, chaining him to the wall, he would have rushed the guy. But there was no way he’d be able to do that.

He didn’t want to earn himself more firsthand experience with bullets digging into his flesh, but he was even more certain that he didn’t want to see either Sonny or Brock shot. He was the oldest one out of the three of them anyway.

“So, who’s it gonna be?” the man grinned way wider than he had any right to.

“Me.” He sensed two heads snapping in his direction beside him. He focused on staring down the man in front of him.

The two others protested, but he shut them down with two quick glares.

“You know what you’re signing up for?” the man flashed a full set of crooked nicotine stained teeth, “I’m not aiming to kill. You’ll live in pain for a long time.”

He fought the urge to swallow. Fought the urge to blink. Fought the urge to show any nervous behavior.

“I’ll leave the choice to you…” the man added a shrill laugh, “Where? Leg, knee, thigh, shoulder, arm?”

He couldn’t pick, he didn’t even know how to open his mouth to speak.

“If you wait too long, I’ll just pick for you…”

Full Metal managed a shrug, “You’d just do that anyway. If I pick a location you’re not satisfied with. Boom, you pick another one.”

“Smart man…” the guy with the revolver raised his eyebrows a fraction, “They learn you that in soldier school?”

He focused on just glaring at the man with the revolver.

The man stepped closer, looking at his legs. He delivered a kick to the heel of Metal’s boot.

Full Metal didn’t react. He was too busy willing his heartrate to go back down, he didn’t like the way he could feel his pulse hammer in his chest and his neck. If he was about to take a round anywhere, it wouldn’t help him if a rapid pulse and high blood pressure made him bleed more than necessary.

* * *

He’d been a ‘fan’ of the man to his left for years. He almost believed himself when he thought the older man by his side had almost superhuman features. One, super scary. Two, super tough. Three, super brave.

Right now he saw all of that in every single second which passed.

Full Metal didn’t even tremble. He was just doing his best to glare a hole in the man threatening to shoot him. _Who the heck did that?_

Sonny glanced over at the man holding the revolver. He was tracing it over Metal’s legs, every now and then taking a detour up to the man’s arms.

The man’s finger was on the trigger. He was putting weight on it, not yet enough to make the hammer drop.

Sonny tried to swallow, he hadn’t noticed how dry his throat had gotten over the past ten seconds.

Suddenly the trigger had gotten enough pressure, and the hammer dropped while the muzzle was right above Full Metal’s right knee.

Alpha-1 didn’t even flinch at the sound of the click. Sonny on the other hand was pretty sure he just soiled his undies.

“Well. Lucky you.” The man sneered, “Now, who’s next?”

“Me. Again.” Metal growled, steel-cold eyes locked on the man with the revolver.

“Your chances gets worse each time.” The man flashed a grin, “Although two in a row is pretty easy to get.”

Metal didn’t answer, just glared at the man.

The man spun the cylinder again. It rolled to a stop. He clicked it shut. Equal chances like the last time.

“Are you sure you still want to be the one.”

Metal nodded firmly.

The man’s evil grin returned. He started moving the gun up and down over Metal’s limbs. Just a bit out of reach.

The man didn’t spend as much time picking his spot the second time around. He pulled the trigger near Full Metal’s right shoulder.

Sonny didn’t think his heart could handle this. But the second pull of the trigger landed on an empty chamber as well.

Metal was just as stoic as he had been by the last trigger pull.

“Who’s next?”

“You don’t have to ask.” Metal growled back.

Sonny had never questioned the size of Metal’s cojones, but he figured he had been selling the man short no matter what size he had pictured.

“Very well…” the man in front of them grinned, “Should I skip spinning the cylinder this time? Your 83% chance of not getting hit would fall down to 67%...”

“I’ve never been a Math person…” the man beside him shot back with a smirk which suggested he didn’t have a care in the world, “You pick.”

Sonny wanted to intervene. He just didn’t know how. He couldn’t get himself to say anything.

“I won’t spin this time then…” the man in front of them grinned, “Maybe next time…”

The man lowered the gun a fraction, about to Metal’s elbow and pulled the trigger once more. Another click. Then he spun the cylinder again.

“Back to the old percentages. You, again?”

Metal nodded.

* * *

Brock watched in horror as the flash from the muzzle lit up the room and the sound reverberated off the walls.

He heard screaming, but it wasn’t Full Metal. The only sound coming off of Alpha-1 was a primal growl.

He realized he had screamed himself, and Sonny had screamed. Full Metal had lived up to his nickname more than anyone should.

The man grinned, “Ooof… You’re a tough one. I think I’ll give you a few minutes to enjoy that feeling. Then we play again.”

Metal nodded slowly, still fixing the man with a cold hard stare.

“You should find something to use as a tourniquet…” The man drawled, “Unless my fun might run out early.”

“Bite me.” Full Metal growled.

“Oh, don’t tempt me with a good time…” the man flashed a wicked smile, “I’ll be back in 10…”

Then the man left through the door.

* * *

“Oh gosh, that’s bleeding a lot…” Brock frowned as he worked on getting his belt off in order to use it as a tourniquet for Metal’s leg, “How is it feeling?”

The larger man shook his head as he exhaled through pressed lips. His hand was pressing down hard high up on his thigh, the wound was right above his knee. “I’m fine.”

“Like hell you are…” Sonny growled, “Put pressure on it.”

“If I do… I’ll cough chunks.” Metal bit out, his chest rising and falling rapidly, “Brock’s working on an improvised TQ…”

“You should put pressure on it anyway…” Brock shot back as his now trembling hands worked on clearing his belt from the beltloops.

* * *

The man came back a few minutes later, maybe not 10 like he had claimed.

“You look a bit paler…” he grinned, “Wanna go for another round.”

Full Metal didn’t answer before the man got close enough to spit on. Then that was his answer.

The man wiped the spit off his face before he pistol-whipped Full Metal, causing him a split lip.

“You’re a fun one…” he chuckled, “Next round, you wanna go again?”

Metal was busy sucking on the fresh wound on his lower lip, but nodded his answer.

The man put a bullet in one of the chambers and spun the cylinder and snapped it shut. “Same leg?”

“Would lower the amount of tourniquets I’ll need.” Metal growled, “Your pick.”

The man grinned and hovered the muzzle of his gun above Metal’s leg.

Click.

Click.

“50-50…”

“95-5 I’d still beat you up if you didn’t have me chained up like this.” Metal shrugged, “50-50 I’ll still do it if you get close enough.”

“Sure, Captain Blood-loss.”

“Senior Chief Blood-loss.” Metal smirked despite the pain, “Not a cake-eater.”

The man smirked back.

Click.

The man popped the cylinder out and gave it a spin.

Click.

Click.

Click.

The man repeated spinning the cylinder. Put the cylinder back in place.

BANG!

* * * 

He wanted to scream so bad. He wanted to curl up in a ball and protect his leg.

Every fiber of his body was screaming at him to do something, and to keep his leg completely still at the same time.

“Want to go for another one?” the man in front of him asked.

_No. NO!_ “Go for it.” He sneered.

The man in front of him shook his head, “No, on second thought… The waiting is part of the fun as well…”

“Of course it is…” Metal did his best to roll his eyes dramatically without getting dizzy.

“I’ll be back…” The man said just before he left through the door once more.

* * *

“Holy bologna…” Sonny grimaced beside him, “How are you doing big guy?”

“Been better.” Metal admitted before he let his head fall back against the concrete wall behind him, “Could really use the rest of the team showing up right about now.”

“Does it hurt?” Brock asked from the other side of Metal.

“What kind of stupid question is that?” Metal didn’t bother hiding the grimace now that it was just the three of them.

“We can take me the next time.” Sonny offered, not really in control of the words falling out of his mouth. “I can take the next shot.”

Full Metal shook his head, “No. I’ll need both of you to lean on once we get a chance to get out of here.”

“Anything you need right now?”

“Fentanyl lollipop…” Metal shrugged, “But that’s not happening.”

“Sorry, fresh out…” Sonny shrugged, “You sure you don’t want me to take the next one.”

“I’m good.” Metal nodded, “Best if only one of us gets injured.”

“Best if none of us got injured…” Brock countered.

“That wasn’t in the cards today.” Metal winced, “I’ve got a plan. Follow my lead.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“Gonna try to drop him.” Metal blinked hard, attempting to clear his head from all of the pain, “You try to get the gun.”

“Copy that.” Brock and Sonny nodded in unison.

Metal bared his teeth in a grimace, “Hell of a Tuesday, right?”

Then the guy came back.

* * *

“Forgive me, I couldn’t possibly wait any longer…”

“Of course not, you freak.” Full Metal let his head fall forward again.

“Are you volunteering again?”

He nodded.

“You’re not right in the head…”

“Well, obviously we’re two of a kind…” Metal drawled back in a low voice, hoping that he’d draw the man a little closer. A little closer would be close enough.

It worked, “What did you say?”

“We’re two of a kind…” he repeated, making sure to slur his words a bit.

The man smirked.

Metal made a show of not being able to focus his eyes on the man, “You gon’ spin it?”

The man grinned. Popped the cylinder out, fed a bullet into the chamber, spun it and clicked it in place.

“Same leg?”

Metal acted like it took all the strength he had to hitch one shoulder up in a shrug, “Practical…”

“Knee this time?”

He made the same show out of struggling to pull enough strength together to hitch one of his shoulders up an inch.

The dirtbag fell for his fake weakened state, and didn’t obtain the same distance as he had earlier.

The man chuckled, “Ready?”

“Go ride a cactus.” He slurred.

The man chuckled as he leaned a little bit closer.

* * *

In one explosive movement he kicked out after the man’s knee, and hit it perfectly with his heel. Pretty much forcing the joint backwards. He noticed the man stumbling, but then the surge of pain let the curtains go down for him.

* * *

Brock managed to grab the revolver, while Sonny managed to deliver a good kick to the man’s dome. The man was out cold, just like Metal.

“Pull him closer and search him!” Brock barked out as he made sure the bullet would be in the chamber which the hammer would hit.

Sonny did like he was told. He found a handful of bullets. A cellphone. Keys.

“Jackpot…” he grinned, and tried the key on the collar around Metal’s neck. It unlocked the collar.

Then he unlocked his collar, before he stepped over to unlock Brock’s.

“Can you call TOC on this, while I try to take a look at Metal’s leg?” Sonny asked handing Brock the phone, then he pulled the unknown man over to where he had been seated and clamped the collar shut around his neck. “There you go bastard… Just like you deserve.”

* * *

It took a while before Metal woke up, when he did it was obvious that the pain was worse than ever before.

“Did it work?” he asked grimacing. His voice was shaking like a leaf in the wind.

“Yeah, tough guy…” Sonny nodded, giving Metal a solid pat on the shoulder, “We’re kings of the situation now, and the team is just a few mikes out with medevac.”

Metal squeezed his eyes shut, “Good. Damn, my leg hurts…”

“No shit?” Sonny chuckled, “You were shot twice, point blank. Of course your leg hurts.”

Metal nodded.


	3. My way or the highway - Brock

**No 3. MY WAY OR THE HIGHWAY**  
Manhandled | Forced to their Knees | Held at Gunpoint

* * *

He winched as a boot connected with the back of his knees. He fell forward and the only reason he didn’t faceplant was that a hand wrapped around the front of his neck.

The muzzle of a gun came into view. He swallowed hard.

“How many of you are there?”

“I’m here alone…”

“Bullshit.” The man growled, “I know you’re a part of a team. Your patch says 5B9. My guess is there has to be AT LEAST four others. If not eight…”

Brock didn’t answer.

“Now, your teammates are probably out there looking for you at the moment.” The man pulled him so far back he was forced to sit his butt down on his heels. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Either way you’re not going to enjoy it much.”

“Like, My way or the highway?” Brock bit out as he stared up at the masked guy above him.

“Trying to be funny, punk?”

The shrug earned him a hard shove, landing him on his stomach with his hands still locked behind his back.

Right then the room exploded with noise, he heard Bravo-1 bark orders, someone shooting, someone yelling at someone to get down.

Then Bravo-4 was right next to him, one hand on his shoulder asking how he was doing.

“Good, just get me out of these bracelets…”


	4. Running out of time - Trent and Sonny

**No 4. RUNNING OUT OF TIME**  
Caged | Buried Alive | Collapsed Building

* * *

October 22th 2008.

At first he didn’t know what had happened. He tried to make out his surroundings, grey and sandy that was all he saw. Dust hanging in the air. His lungs burning.

He blinked lazily. He tried to figure out how he was laying. Nothing registered, not pain, not anything. Had to be shock. Or at least he hoped it was shock. Sure hoped it wasn’t a spinal cord injury.

There was constant noise, like small and big rocks were falling against each other in the distance.

Little by little his body seemed to log back on. Not long after he kinda wished that it hadn’t.

He realized he was laying halfway on his back, halfway on his side. His left leg was pinned down by something but it didn’t hurt.

“Anybody there?” it was faint, distant. But it sounded like Sonny.

“Yeah!”

“You hurt?”

“Yeah! You?”

“My side’s split open. Don’t know how bad it really is.” Sonny groaned from the other side of what had to be collapsed concrete, “How are you?”

“Pretty sure my right arm got blown off.” Trent bit out as he tried to fish a tourniquet band out of his pocket, “And my leg’s pinned down.”

“BLOWN OFF?”

“Haven’t been able to take a proper look at it!” he called back, “Not enough room to wiggle around here and take a look. Trying to get a tourniquet on!”

* * *

He had tried raising their other teammates over the coms. Adam, Jason, Full Metal, Ray. Neither of them answered.

He wasn’t sure if that meant that they were the only two survivors, or if the collapsed walls everywhere blocked his signals.

He wasn’t sure if the constant clacking was a good or a bad sign. Best case it could be someone digging through the rubble, worst case it was an unsteady collapse and the whole thing was getting ready to squish them properly.

“You still there Sonny?”

“Yeah.” The Texan drawled, “Vision’s getting blurry though…”

“Focus!” he ordered knowing the young Texan wouldn’t be in control of his own consciousness, “You’re no use to yourself if you pass out!”

“Trying!” Sonny quipped back, “How are you doing?”

“The tourniquet hurts. Bad.” He admitted, “Can you reach the others?”

“No. Radio is all dead.”

“Dammit.” He grimaced.

* * *

He felt like he was slipping away just as the noise got a lot closer. It sounded like someone was moving rocks right next to his head.

“I’ve got Sonny!” a voice called out real close, sounded like Ray, then he heard Sonny mumble something he didn’t catch.

“Trent’s close?”

Then Sonny mumbled something again.

“You heard the man, DIG!” Ray, definitely Ray.

Chunks of concrete clacked together faster. All of the sudden light shone in his face, and a silhouette above him leaned closer. “Hey brother, how are you doing?”

It was Full Metal, with blood smeared all across his face courtesy of a gash near his hairline.

“Think the explosion blew my arm straight off…” he bit out in return, “Right arm. Near my elbow.”

Full Metal leaned in closer to try to get a look, “We’ll take a look at it soon as we’ve got you loose. Any other injuries?”

“All banged up…” Trent admitted, “Nothing to worry about. My leg’s pinned down.”

Metal nodded, “Jase, Adam, a little help here!”

* * *

“Good news, bad news…” Full Metal said as he patted Trent’s chest. He was just done splitting the sleeve of Trent’s shirt to get a look at the man’s arm.

“Good news?”

“It’s not blown off. And you’re a lefty.”

“Bad news…”

“It’s a hell of a break.” Metal frowned as he covered it up.

“How’s Sonny?”

“Kid earned himself a nasty scar. I think he’ll be alright.” Metal winked, “Ray’s giving him some quality O-neg as we speak.”

Trent nodded, “Good.”


	5. Where do you think you're going - Jason

**No 5. WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING?**  
On the Run | Failed Escape | Rescue

* * *

He woke up to his leg being in cast from mid-thigh down. He didn’t remember how he ended up in this situation, frankly he didn’t remember anything that could have gotten him hurt in the first place.

But his knee felt like it was trying to split open on its own, so he figured there had to be a reason for the brand new accessory he was sporting.

That, and his head was swimming in that familiar concussed feeling. The world felt like being on a large ship on not so calm water, even though he knew he was in a hospital bed in a concrete building. And light was bothersome to say the least.

He looked around the room, saw Ray sleeping in an armchair by the window, and a set of crutches leaned up against the opposite wall.

He sat up, the room took a sharp left turn before it settled a bit once again. His head ached.

He was lucky enough to have a bed which only had bed railings down to his hips. He could easily get out of it.

Well, maybe not so easily after all. He hadn’t taken into account how bad his head spun and how bad his entire leg felt once he tried moving it.

He edged out of the bed. Planting one foot firmly on the ground, and holding the railing to his right in a death-grip. Then he pressed to a standing position, it only took him three times not to fail that task.

The crutches was now right at the end of his reach. Freedom.

He grabbed them, put them under his armpits. Tried his best not to lose his latest meal as the world did a kick and a flip each time he hobbled a step.

He made it all the way to the door before Ray cleared his voice behind him, “Jase, where do you think you’re going?”


	6. Please - Sonny

**No 6. PLEASE….**  
“Get it Out” | No More | “Stop, please”

* * *

A colorful string of words left the Texan, discomfort playing all across his features. “Get it out! Please!”

It didn’t help that the rest of the team was busy laughing their asses off.

“Twenty bucks he screams.” Trent shot in with a gleeful smirk, holding two tens between his fingers.

“Nah-uh…” Metal chuckled, “No one’s gonna bet against you Sawyer.”

“Will you stop foolin’ around and help me out here?” Sonny barked from his prone position.

“You want Trent to do this instead?”

“God NO!” he glared up at Brock who had suggested the switch, “I don’t want someone with permanent nerve damage taking care of my hiney!”

Another fit of laughter rolled through the team.

“-How many are we up to now?” Metal asked with an amused smirk, looking over at the box where they were discarding the quills.

“7.” Clay chuckled, “And at least triple digits to go…”

“You know, we probably could just grab a hold of half of them and yank them out…” Full Metal offered as he hunched down to flash Sonny one of his trademark wicked grins.

“HELL NO!”

“Probably hurt less…” Metal shrugged.

“Yeah, probably would…” Jason chuckled from the corner of the shade they were in.

Brock grabbed a hold of a set of three quills and yanked them, drawing a howl from the Texan. “Ten.”

“Stop. Please.” Sonny almost cried, “No mas, no mas…”

“Sorry to break it to you, but you’ve still got a butt-full of porcupine quills stuck to your rear…” Trent chuckled, “And I’m a fan of Full Metal’s suggested tactics. Make it four or five sections, would be over real soon.”

“Guys, I can’t no more…” Sonny winced.

“Well, look on the bright side… You’re better off than the poor porcupine you landed on…”

“I’d still say Porcupine 256, Sonny 1…” Clay shrugged, “It might be dead, but it got its revenge in first.”

“Just wait until you find cactus shavings in your bed buddy-boy…” Sonny growled back, “This ain’t funny!”

“No. It’s hilarious.” Full Metal shrugged and gave Sonny a solid pat on the back.

“I’m with Metal.” Ray nodded, “It’s pretty funny.”

“Why is it always me who has to get things stuck under my skin…” Sonny whined.


	7. I've got you - Ray

**No 7. I’VE GOT YOU**  
Support | Carrying | ~~Enemy to Caretaker~~

* * *

_Way back in almost forgotten history..._

He wasn’t used to being the new guy. It was a few years since he had gone through basic, he had been picked for a team and then only a couple of months later there was another new guy.

And then he joined one of the green teams. Then EVERYONE was the new guy, which made none of them the new guy.

Then finally he qualified as a tier one operator. -And now he was definitely the new guy.

He was 28, with a chip on his shoulder and everything to prove. The older guys seemed so settled. Well, maybe except Sonny, but that guy seemed like he enjoyed being a loose cannon. And the others accepted him for it.

It was a pretty young team. They really just had two age groups in the team. It was those near their early thirties, and those near their late thirties. Their leader Adam wasn’t the oldest, but he was the most put together of them. Jason, the second in command was the oldest, then came the guy they all just called Full Metal and then Trent. And then a short decade younger was Sonny then Ray.

* * *

He thought it was him against the world, most of the time. Maybe even all of the time. He knew the rest of the team was just that, a team, a damn good one for that matter.

But he was the new guy. The odd one out. And in addition he was the photo-negative of all the others.

He was deep in thought when something suddenly struck his left leg, then he heard the rattling.

“FUCK!” he jumped aside, but it was too late. His leg was already starting to burn, “FUCK! IT BIT ME!”

“What?” Sonny asked as he turned around, but jumped about as high as he was tall when he saw the coiled up rattler on the ground. “HOLY FU-… Those are bad motherfuckers…”

“It bit you?” Metal asked as he stepped closer to Ray, “Where?”

Ray was already pressing a hand down a few inches above the bite, he didn’t dare to place his hand directly over it in fear that it would hurt worse.

“Where?”

“Middle of the side of my calf…” he winced, “Ow, it burns…”

Trent had also stepped closer, but he kept an eye on the snake the entire time.

“Okay, sit down on that rock over there.” Metal pointed with one hand and pulled Sonny closer so the young man could support Ray as they made their way over. “Trent, rinse it and wrap it? That’s the correct protocol, right?”

Trent nodded, “Sure is.”

Then Metal turned around to face the snake, got his handgun out and shot the bastard. “Don’t go near it, it can still strike even though it’s dead.”

“WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING OVER THERE?” Adam frowned as he looked back at his team, oblivious to the dramatic turn of events.

“Kid got bitten by a rattler.” Full Metal informed before he spit in the direction of the venomous snake, “Figured I’d blow this training mission in order to get some justice for him.”

“What?” Adam’s eyes went wide and he looked towards where Trent was helping Ray with the bite, “Did you get bit, Ray?”

“Yeah.” The answer was thin, and didn’t sound much like the young man.

“Can we call in medevac?” Trent asked glancing over his shoulder at Adam.

“No choppers in the area.” Adam shook his head, “And I don’t think there are vehicles made for this terrain ready either… I’ll give it a shot though.”

“Thanks.” Trent nodded and returned his focus to Ray, “How are you feeling?”

Ray shrugged, “Jittery.”

“Like your heart is beating out of your chest?”

“Getting there…”

“Anything else?” Trent asked as he poured some water over the bite, “Are you feeling faint? Is your vision starting to blur? Is it hard to breathe? Are you feeling nauseous? Numb? Thirsty?”

“A little dizzy.”

“Anything else?”

“Blurry.”

“Your vision is blurry?”

“A little.”

Trent let Ray’s leg air-dry before he found a sterile ace-wrap and started wrapping Ray’s leg. Not too tight.

“How about now?”

“Blurry, yes. My heart’s beating fast.” Ray nodded, “Feel like I’m gonna pass out if I jog a hundred yards.”

“Good thing you’re not going to do that then…” Metal said as he knelt down beside Ray, “You shouldn’t even walk.”

“How the hell are we going to make that happen?” Sonny asked a few feet away, “It’s not like we brought a damn stretcher. And all we’ve got around here are damn cacti!”

“We’ll figure something out.” Metal said as he looked up at the Texan.

“My chest is feeling a little tight…” Ray mumbled.

“Like it’s hard to breathe?” Trent asked, looking up with concerned eyes.

“Just a little.” Ray nodded.

“Okay, definitely no walking.” Metal cut through.

Trent nodded, “Tell me if it gets any worse, alright?”

Ray nodded.

* * *

A few minutes later, Adam told them that there was no medevac able to get to them, but that they would get a van which would meet them on a road a few clicks away.

“Alright kid, drop your backpack… Jase is gonna take that for you.” Metal said, his left hand resting on Ray’s upper arm, “Okay?”

“I’m having a hard time focusing…”

“That’s alright…” Metal nodded, “Just take your backpack off.”

Ray nodded a little, and started unbuckling it.

“Okay, good.” Metal smiled, hoping that it would be encouraging, “Now, you’ll probably not be the biggest fan of this next part of this, but it’s really important that you don’t strain yourself now. Understood?”

“Hard time focusing…” Ray repeated holding up a hand, “Kinda nauseous as well.”

“Okay, thanks for the information…” Metal nodded and gave Ray a good pat on the shoulder, “How is it to breathe?”

“Easier.”

“That’s good.” Trent shot in.

“We need to get going…” Full Metal sighed, he had already slipped one arm behind Ray’s back and was about to slip his other arm under Ray’s knees, “Sorry for this…”

“Sorry for wha-” Ray didn’t get to finish his sentence before he was in the arms of the tallest team member. “Put me down, I can walk!”

“No. You can’t!” Trent shot in from the sideline, “You need to move as little as possible.”

“What he said…” Full Metal shrugged with Ray in his arms, then they all started walking towards where they were supposed to meet the van which would transport Ray out of there.

They hadn’t even gotten 80 yards away from where they had started before Ray dosed off in Full Metal’s arms.

Metal picked up his pace a little, but not more than he knew he could handle for the distance left, “I’ve got you, kid…”

At the tail end of the group, Sonny walked. Making sure to glance at every crevasse and shadow in case another coldblooded creature hid there.

“Snakes, man…” He frowned and shuddered at the same time, “Worse than sharks.”


	8. Where did everybody go? - Clay

**No 8. WHERE DID EVERYBODY GO?**  
“Don’t Say Goodbye” | Abandoned | Isolation

* * *

The latest spin-up had left him with a broken humerus and a gunshot wound to the shoulder on that same side. His shoulder and arm hurt almost more than he could fathom. Still, the rest of the team shipping out a short week later, without him, hurt almost just as bad.

Seeing the C-130 take off in the distance felt like a hand wrapped around his intestines, squeezing them.

A big ball of regret sat at the top of his throat. Promising that if he dared to try to speak, his voice would crack and his eyes start watering.

He didn’t understand why he felt like this. Felt so alone, so isolated. It wasn’t like they left him forever. They just left him until he was better.

He wasn’t being abandoned. This wasn’t like when his father had walked out on him when he was a kid. This wasn’t his mother not being able to take care of him alone. This wasn’t it.

This was the team giving him time to heal, while they went off to save the world. They couldn’t stop just because he couldn’t do his job at the moment. He understood that.

He looked down at the sling holding his arm and shoulder immobilized. He reached up with his left hand and tugged the tennis-ball sized foam ball off the Velcro thing at the end of the wedge which held his forearm a few inches in out from his body, then he placed the ball in his right hand and gave it a weak squeeze.

There hadn’t been any ‘goodbyes’, they didn’t do that when one of their own couldn’t ship out with them. It was always _‘see you in a few days/weeks/months’_.

Still, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt as alone.


	9. For the greater good - Full Metal

**No 9. FOR THE GREATER GOOD**  
“Take Me Instead” | “Run!” | ~~Ritual Sacrifice~~

* * *

“You guys go on without me.” Metal said as he stalled his hobbling, “I’m slowing you all down.”

“No way!” Jason shook his head as he turned towards the tall operator, “Staying here will get you killed.”

“It’s possible that it’ll get me killed.” Metal admitted as he took his arms off Trent and Sonny’s shoulders, “But it’ll mean that you guys can get to safety with Miss Harold… My leg is slowing us all down, I can set up position here and take out as many enemies from our tail as possible.”

“No-no-no!” Jason scowled, “Not an option.”

“I can’t keep up this speed.” Full Metal scowled back, even more intimidating than Bravo-1, “My leg is bust. I’m slowing us down. For the greater good, to have as many of us as possible get out of here without being carried out on a stretcher, I should stay behind here.”

“It’s pretty much suicide.”

“But not entirely…” Metal shot back, “I’ve got two full mags for my M4. I’ve got two and a half for my Glock. The way I see it, my chances are better than non-existent.”

Jason sighed.

“If I survive, I’ll get on the sat phone.” Full Metal glared hard at Jason, “And you can get your little hero moment when you come to pick me up afterwards.”

Gunshots sounded in the distance.

“Go on!” Full Metal slapped his hands together, “Run! I’ll take care of this.”

“Don’t you dare die on us…” Trent scowled up at Full Metal, “I’m not telling your parents or your sister that you died. And I know damn well you wrote my name on that line.”

Metal nodded, “I’ve got this…”

“Promise me.”

Metal flashed a quick smirk, “Hurry up!”


	10. They look so pretty when they bleed - All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt is pretty much a continuation of the previous one. But not necessarily.

**No 10. THEY LOOK SO PRETTY WHEN THEY BLEED**  
Blood Loss | ~~Internal Bleeding | Trail of Blood  
~~ Alt. prompts: Stitches | Support

Stella tried to choke a gasp as the men rounded the corner of the building on the other side of the fence. She didn’t succeed entirely, and Naima looked her way.

“Sorry…” she blushed and looked down.

“No…” Naima chuckled a bit, “Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s just that… Don’t get me wrong now, but…” Stella shrugged sheepishly, “They look so pretty when they bleed?”

Naima chuckled a bit, “I think it’s like that for all of us ‘wives’… Not sure if it’s because something in our lizard brains thinks it’s very masculine, or if it’s the possibility that we might have them at home an extra couple of weeks…”

“You’re probably onto something there…” she nodded and fixed her eyes on the seven guys walking their way.

Jason looked tired and walked stiffly, but that was everything about him. He had one big backpack on each shoulder, carrying both like a high schooler who didn’t bother to use both straps.

Ray had a rectangular bandage taped across the right side of his forehead, some of it had been bled through. Otherwise he seemed alright.

Sonny seemed okay, he had some blood smeared across most of his shirt, but it didn’t seem like it was his. He was carrying one backpack on his back, and was carrying a second one by the strap. 

Trent seemed fine. Blood on his left sleeve and his knees, but didn’t show any signs of it being his.

Brock limped a bit, but not much.

Clay had his left arm in a sling, and the collar on his right side was stained brownish-red, probably from the same wound which colored his blonde hair. But he was smiling and laughing along.

Full Metal was not carrying his own backpack, nor was he stepping down properly on his right leg. He had his right arm draped over Trent’s shoulders, using him for support.

* * *

“What happened to you?” she asked after the mandatory welcome home hug and kiss was finished.

“Split my head open…” he shrugged his good shoulder, “Dislocated my shoulder…”

“Oh my…”

“It’s not as bad as it looks. It’s just really sore…” he winked, “…And Trent stitched up the gash in my head.”

“You’re caked with blood…”

“Yeah. I plan on hitting the shower pretty soon.” He sighed.

She nodded, she wasn’t going to offer to join him while they were still there in the parking lot, but she would later.

“How has these last couple of months been here at home?”

“Been missing you…” she pressed her lips into a thin line, “Glad you’re home.”

He nodded a bit.

“What happened to you guys? Did you get hurt on the same OP, or?”

“Ray, Metal and I did…” Clay nodded, “Jase is just old, he’d kill me if he ever heard I told you that. Brock twisted his ankle about a week ago…”

“And Ray and Metal, how are they?”

“Ray’s got a few nicks and scrapes.” Clay smirked, “Full Metal probably broke the thin bone in his leg.”

“Probably? Haven’t he had x-rays yet?”

“No, we barely made the plane back…” Clay shook his head.

“That means you haven’t had x-rays taken either…” Stella tilted her head, “Are you sure it’s only dislocated?”

Clay nodded, “Not the first time it’s happened… And it slipped back easily…”

She sighed, “You should get that shoulder looked at…”

“Okay, okay…” he nodded, “But not right now… It can wait until tomorrow, I want a shower and to cuddle up together with you. Deal?”

She rolled her eyes a bit.

He stepped closer and pulled her tighter to him with his good arm, “Deal?”

“Okay…” she sighed.

“HEY KID! I’M TOSSING YOUR BACKPACK IN THE BACK OF YOUR TRUCK!” Sonny called out over by the vehicles.

He raised a thumb in return.


	11. Psych 101 - Full Metal

**No 11. PSYCH 101**  
Defiance | Struggling | Crying

* * *

It had been a rough one. Worse than most other days, but still not his worst day. His worst day had happened back when he was still a civilian and wore shoulder pads every Friday night.

That in mind, this one had been close. As close as it could get without any of their lives being lost.

His eyes stung with tears about to spill. He dipped his head down low before he reached for the near full bottle of whiskey which was standing at the end of the table.

He didn’t bother with a glass, he just put the bottle to his lips and swallowed down. He didn’t even bother putting the cap back on once he had to take a break.

The first teardrop fell in silence. The next five followed suit. All of the sudden he had damn waterfalls cascading down his cheeks.

He took another long sip. The whiskey was burning all the way down. Making his stomach feel all weird, but also comfortable in a numb way. He liked that numb feeling.

He laid down on his couch, his head propped up on the armrest, his legs hanging off the other armrest of the two-seater. The waterfalls changed direction and some of the salty droplets ended up inside of his ears.

A couple of mouthfuls later, he didn’t really care about much. Only thing he cared about was the numbness and how he preferred that to everything else. He didn’t care about anything else, didn’t notice the light ebbing away outside, didn’t notice time slipping by. Only thing catching his eye was when he picked the bottle up for the nth time and it was near weightless.

A few drops of amber liquid teased him in the bottle of the clear bottle. He put it to his lips and got the last few drops as well.

He studied the empty bottle with as much concentration he could muster after a three-quarter flask of whiskey. He wanted more. Needed more.

He looked towards the cabinet where he usually kept stuff like that, and remembered that the bottle in his hand had been the last bottle the last time a few of the guys were over to have some fun and watch some sports.

He let his head fall forward, he was empty. Probably didn’t even have a single cold beer in the fridge.

He raised to his feet, walked over to the sink and washed his face. He needed more booze, and the easiest way to get it was to walk down to the corner store and buy some. He just had to look like he hadn’t already drank half a liquor store.

* * *

He knew it was a shit way to deal with the problem. He knew better. Of course he knew better. Like just about everybody else, he had drunks in his family too.

One uncle and one aunt on his dad’s side. His grandpa and grand-uncle on his mom’s side.

He sure wasn’t one himself. No. He didn’t drink regularly, didn’t even get that drunk most times he drank either.

But buying two bottles of cheap whiskey at 2 p.m., when you’re already way past tipsy wasn’t a good look. -But if they only saw what he had seen over the last 72 hours, they’d know why he needed this. They’d know he wasn’t just a drunk. They’d know that this was much needed therapy.


	12. I think I've broken something  - Full Metal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I was really not sure about how I wanted to attack this prompt. But I knew it had to be Full Metal, and I had a few options of HOW.  
> It was either going to be a motorcycle accident, a car accident (Humvee accident), helicopter accident or HAHO/HALO accident.  
> -Or, I'd just focus on the 'broken trust' part of the prompt and discard the two other prompt tags. 
> 
> It ended up being HELLA LONG...

**No 12. I THINK I’VE BROKEN SOMETHING**  
Broken Down | Broken Bones | Broken Trust

* * *

Jason looked over the five other guys who was in the middle of packing away their parachutes. His heart was beating double time, he needed to figure out who had been in trouble going down. He started looking for the members of his team in order.

Ray.

Sonny.

Trent.

Brock.

Clay.

Full Metal was the missing one.

“Anyone see if Full Metal got his reserve open?”

“Was it Metal who had problems?” Ray asked looking around, “Yeah, saw the reserve open, but he was really low when it did…”

“How low?” Trent asked, a concerned look in his eyes.

“Probably got a rough landing, but should be alright.”

Sonny was the first one to get on his radio, “Alpha-1, this is Bravo-3. What’s your status? Over.”

A couple of seconds passed.

“Alpha-1, this is Bravo-3. What’s your status? Over.”

Another couple of seconds passed, no answer.

“Did you see which direction he went down in?” Jason asked Ray.

“I didn’t see where exactly, but it was near the hill with the giant rock on top.” Ray said, pointing in that direction.

“We need to find him.” Jason swallowed.

“Alpha-1. This is Bravo-3. What’s your status?” Sonny repeated yet another time, before looking at the rest of them when no answer came. His expression clearly stating what all of them were thinking.

* * *

They had walked in the direction Ray had picked out for almost two hundred yards when Brock keyed his mike, “This is Bravo-5, I see a reserve parachute a little west of those five trees… About 300 meters out.”

“Good copy Bravo-5, I see it too.” Jason nodded, “Alright guys, brace yourselves for what we might find.”

* * *

Trent was still almost 35 yards out when he heard that they wouldn’t find a corpse. He heard someone whimpering, and dead people don’t whimper. 

“Hey, Full Metal!” he called out, “Are you awake?”

A second or two passed before Full Metal answered, his voice was laced with pain, “Yeah.”

“You hurt?” he asked as he stepped closer. Dumb question, he knew it.

“Yeah.” Metal’s voice sounded like a grimace, “I think I’ve broken something.”

“Neck? Back?” Trent asked as he got close enough to actually see Full Metal laying flat on his back through the three feet tall grass. The tall man didn’t move and he was pale.

“No-no-no…” Metal shook his head a bit, “My left knee. My left leg in general, to be honest.”

Trent nodded and knelt down, the rest of the guys showing up one by one. “Why didn’t you answer when Sonny called you up on the radio?”

“Was trying to reach you.” Metal bared his teeth and growled, “No answer. Traced the cord from my headset. Radio’s gone.”

“Oh, okay…” Trent nodded, “Are you hurt anywhere else? How’s your head?”

“My leg is worst.” Full Metal grimaced, “My head is fine. Got a few scrapes and bruises all over.”

“What happened up there?”

“Line wrapped around my leg.” Metal growled, “Think it yanked my knee out.”

“Out?”

“Dislocated it or some shit…” Full Metal grimaced, “Disconnected, but the lines were still wrapped around my leg. Had to get rid of it before I could deploy my reserve so they wouldn’t tangle.”

Trent nodded, there was no doubt in his mind that Metal was in a lot of pain. He had known the man for actual decades by now, and the man’s usual way of handling pain was to ‘rub some dirt on it, and walk it off’. Vivid memories of Full Metal ignoring injuries which shouldn’t be ignored danced around in his mind.

“Was low when I finally got loose and could deploy the reserve. Landed feet first, but hard. Pretty sure my left leg is both torn and broken. -And I twisted my right ankle.”

Trent nodded, “You know I need to take a look at that leg of yours?”

“Not a fan of it, but yeah…”

“Better get that backpack away from your legs first.”

Metal swallowed hard, “Just cut the backpack strap which goes around my leg, alright? I don’t want you to move my leg at all.”

Trent nodded, “Of course.”

* * *

The whole team cringed when Ray lifted the backpack away after Trent had cut the backpack strap, and Full Metal’s leg followed the strap sideways with almost no resistance.

The sound Full Metal made sounded more like the primal growl of a large predator than anything a human should be able to produce.

“Crap…” Sonny was the first to regain the ability to speak, not to anyone’s surprise, “That’s not good.”

Trent shook his head as he crawled down to Metal’s feet and started cutting away at the fabric of his pants in order to reveal the mangled leg.

Metal’s ankle and leg looked bad enough, swollen and starting to bruise, but it was the knee Metal had pointed out being the worst.

* * *

His guts twisted painfully as he revealed his friend’s knee. Best word to describe it was shapeless. The entire leg looked wrong, but the knee was the nightmare fuel of it all.

It would bruise a lot, it hadn’t gotten there yet, but it would. If they were lucky the main vessels would be intact. If not, they should put a tourniquet on. He was a bit concerned, since Metal was paler than usual, but that could also be written off as an effect pain had on him.

He got a bright idea, and moved to get the combat boot off of Metal’s foot. He sensed that Metal tried his best to keep quiet, but there was no way for him to accomplish that task. Not with a leg like that.

“Still got a strong pulse, Champ!” he informed as he looked up at Metal.

“Good.” Metal winced.

“I’m just going to check your chest and abdomen as well. Make sure you’re not hiding some internal bleeding there.” Trent informed as he silently instructed Clay to keep Metal’s foot in the position it was in.

Metal nodded and helped getting his gear off, “Didn’t hurt anything in my torso.”

“I’m gonna check anyway.” Trent declared, “That leg is enough to blind you for other pains and aches. And I want to do my due diligence here.”

Metal nodded and lifted the chest-plate aside, before he tugged his shirt out from under the belt.

“Any abdominal pain?” Trent asked as he looked over Metal’s now exposed skin.

Metal shook his head.

Trent nodded and placed his hands on Metal’s stomach, checking if his abdomen felt cold, clammy or distended. “Let me know if this hurt.”

“Only my leg’s hurting.”

Trent pressed his lips hard together, he had known the man on the ground for long enough to not trust him entirely when he said nothing else hurt. “Any chest pain, shortness of breath?”

Metal shook his head.

“Shoulder pain?”

Metal shook his head.

“Dizziness or feeling faint?”

“I was hoping to pass out when that leg moved.” Metal shrugged a little, “No such luck.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’.” Trent shrugged as he finished up checking Metal’s abdomen, “Gotta check your chest as well.”

Metal frowned a bit, but it didn’t look like it was from the pain this time around.

“What?”

“Full disclosure?” Metal scrounged up his nose, “I bruised a couple ribs on my right side a couple of weeks ago. Still pretty colorful.”

Trent raised his eyebrows a fraction in disbelief, “Alright, let’s see them.”

Metal sighed, and lifted his shirt further, “Only stings when there’s pressure on it. So… You don’t have to press down right there.”

Trent rolled his eyes once he had studied the old mottled bruising. “Sure you only bruised it?”

Metal shrugged a little.

“Metal, what happened there?”

“Fell off my sister’s roof.” He sighed, “Was helping them put new tiles on the roof. Lost my footing.”

“You talked about going to do that almost two months back…” Trent frowned, “When did you say you did this?”

Metal didn’t answer straight away, it was obvious that he didn’t want to answer.

“Metal…”

“It happened that weekend.” He finally admitted.

“So this bruise is almost two months old.” Trent scowled, “Which means you probably broke a couple of ribs, not just bruised them…”

Metal swallowed.

“Which means you probably shouldn’t have been on this mission in the first place, but you CERTAINLY shouldn’t have been on the last ten spin-ups.” Trent scowled down at the man, as he put slight pressure directly on the old bruise.

“Hey, I said don’t do that!” Metal frowned and swatted Trent’s hand away from the bruise, “Already told you that stings.”

“Yeah. And I’m trying to imply some negative association with hiding injuries from the team!” Trent huffed, then he took a deep breath to collect himself, “Alright, sorry… I shouldn’t be doing that. -But you should know better.”

Metal shrugged a bit, “Didn’t slow me down.”

“You know how tempting it is to press down on that bruise?” Trent shot Metal a look.

“Copy that.” Metal nodded.

“Now, does it hurt when I press down other places here?”

Metal shook his head.

“Alright, looks like you avoided any internal injuries to your chest and torso.” He nodded, “I’m going to check on that every now and then until we’ve sent you with the medevac team.”

Metal nodded a little. “How are we gonna do this?”

“We need to stabilize your leg first.” Trent informed.

“No. Medevac.” He grimaced, “We’re 30 clicks inside a country we’re not supposed to be operating in. They won’t send a helicopter for me, will they?”

Jason shook his head, “No. Since it’s not life threatening at the moment, so they won’t.”

Metal grimaced, his left hand pressed against his left hip, like it would help stabilize the leg further down.

“Orders are to get you on a stretcher and head for the border. Mission is stalled until further notice.”

Metal nodded a bit, his face still overtaken by grimaces every now and then.

“What do you think boys?” Trent swallowed hard, “Splint the bad leg against the good one, minimize movement as best as we can.”

“Good. My knee is Jell-o…” Metal sighed, “Painful Jell-o…”

“Sure has the structural integrity of it…” Sonny admitted, letting out a short profanity when Ray’s elbow connected with his ribs.

“No need to punish the guy Ray.” Metal gritted out, “I know how bad this is.”

* * *

Clay almost felt faint himself as the helped Trent move Full Metal’s leg back into position.

In his hands it felt like he was holding something which had just been attempted being put back together with Elmer’s glue, long before the glue had set.

There was no resistance at all.

But the worst was the small whimpers rolling off of Full Metal after the initial scream died down.

He’d seen the older man cuss. He’d seen the man yelp, like once. He’d never seen the _unbreakable_ Full Metal so broken down. Never seen him so frail.

“I’m so sorry…” he said it, but he doubted Full Metal even heard him.

“Still a strong pulse.” Trent informed once Metal’s leg was more straightened out. Then he started securing Metal’s legs against each other, using parachute canopy as padding between Metal’s legs and as the ribbons to tie his legs against each other.

Not long after they had managed to roll Metal onto the tactical stretcher Brock had assembled for them, and secured him to it properly. 

Full Metal had paled even more after the jostling.

“Still a good pulse.” Trent assured as he checked Metal’s pulse once again, “Does it hurt when I check?”

“Hurts all the time.” Full Metal bit out, “Don’t really notice you fondling my foot.”

“No?”

Metal shook his head a bit.

“You don’t feel me touching your foot at all?”

“You could sucker-punch me straight in the nose right now, and I wouldn’t notice it because of how bad my leg hurts.”

“Okay…” Trent frowned, not exactly believing Metal’s explanation. It wasn’t exactly like he didn’t have first hand experience with nerve damage, “You need more pain relief?”

“I need _some_ pain relief.” Metal nodded, “Couldn’t sit up. Couldn’t reach the personal med kit. Haven’t had any.”

“We should probably do something about that before we start carrying ya…” Sonny frowned, “Why didn’t ya say something?”

Metal shrugged a bit, “Was a bit distracted.”

* * *

The 30 kilometer trek with Full Metal on a stretcher took a bit longer than any of them had hoped for. 30 clicks with a man on a stretcher should be entirely possible to accomplish in one day, if the terrain had been a little bit easier than what they actually met.

About 22 kilometers in, the sun had dipped below the horizon, the team had pushed on for a few more clicks with night vision goggles in place, but eventually had to get some rest.

So they hunkered down for the night.

* * *

He laid there listening to the snores of the rest of the team. He was in too much pain to fall asleep.

Instead he ended up laying there, listening and looking up at the black nothingness above him. The only thing he saw up there was the full moon.

He knew the stars would be out as well, but he didn’t see them. He’d experienced this before. He knew morphine could mess up his night vision.

He listened. He could point out each team-member’s distinct sleeping sounds.

Jason had the most standard snores, but only every third or fourth inhale.

Ray had soft snores, constant. Like a comforting ‘I’m still here’ message to whoever was close.

Trent had this funny whistle-like sound on his exhales. He didn’t snore, not even when he laid on his back. But his exhales sounded like someone who didn’t know how to whistle attempting to whistle.

Clay hummed a bit every now and then. Kinda like sleep talking, but not talking.

Sonny’s wood-mill snoring was missing though. Either the man had found the one position which kept him from snoring, or he had stopped breathing. -Or he was still awake.

“Sonny?” he whispered, angling his head in the direction he thought the Texan would be in.

“Yup…” Sonny whispered back, “Cant’s sleep?”

“Nah, hurts too bad.” He had no problem admitting that, the rest of the guys had seen his leg. He probably wouldn’t have cared if it was daylight and Sonny had been able to see the wet trails leading from his eyes and back to his ears. There was no need to hide the pain. “You?”

“Thinking too much…”

“About what?”

“Previous missions. This mission. Home. Family.” Sonny listed up, “Both this family and blood relatives.”

“What kind of missions?”

“Where any of us got hurt beyond the regular nicks and scrapes.” He heard Sonny shrug, “This is the BEST job ever. But it’s also the worst job ever.”

Full Metal nodded a little bit to that. He agreed. No matter how much pain it had caused him throughout the years, it had all been worth it.

“Well, I don’t think society see you and I as fit for anything else.” He smirked half a second before a sinking feeling appeared in his gut. _What if this was the end of his career?_

Sonny huffed a laugh, “Words of wisdom there, my friend.”

He pushed the unwelcomed doubt away. “Yeah. Just imagine the two of us in any other profession.”

“What would that even be like?” Sonny mused, “I can’t really imagine either of us with an ‘Apple pie life’ and a 9-5…”

Metal nodded, “True. I don’t think I even had a fallback plan when I joined.”

“I didn’t.” Sonny admitted.

“I really don’t know what I’d do if I’m done for…”

Sonny moved a bit to his left, Metal guessed that the man got up on his elbow, “I hope that’s a work related question and not a ‘I might suck-start a pistol’ kind of statement.”

“Relax. It’s just me being worried about the future.” Metal almost smiled, “I’ve got stuff to live for outside of these missions as well. Got three great kids I’m the uncle to, and believe it or not, I’ve got friends as well.”

“Good.” Sonny’s voice was a bit more relaxed, “I’m not ready for another funeral this decade.”

Metal smirked, “You know, the decade has barely started.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Sonny whispered back, “I’m never ready for another funeral.”

Metal nodded, “Yeah, me neither.”

“So, fallback plan? What would that be like now?” Sonny asked as he laid back down.

“You mean, if I don’t heal well enough?”

“Yup…” Sonny drawled, “I better start window-shopping fallback plans in case I ever need one.”

“Not sure.” Metal sighed, “Always figured I’d die in combat.”

“That’s what we all think…”

“Not all of us…” Metal shook his head, “I know for a fact that we’ve got at least three members of our team who’s picturing rocking chairs for their retirement.”

Sonny chuckled a bit next to him, “Yeah, okay… But we’re a different breed. They started families. They had fallback plans for their fallback plans.”

“Probably did.” Metal smirked, before he did an involuntary sharp inhale as something in his leg decided to amp up the hurting.

“You good there?”

“No.” he admitted, “But nothing new. Guess I had a muscle twitch or something.”

“Sucks, huh?”

“This whole day has sucked.” Metal sighed, “Ever since we jumped out of that airplane, this day has sucked.”

“Sure has. Gonna be good to get you in that medevac chopper or whatever they send for us tomorrow.”

“I hope it’s a chopper.”

“Yeah?”

“Imagine being transported in the back of a vehicle on the bumpy roads this area is known for…”

“Aiii, that’s nightmare fuel…” Sonny winced in sympathy.

“Yeah.”

“About the afterlife… I always figured I’d travel back to Texas if I needed to… Help out around the farm.” Sonny sighed, “I somehow worked it all out with my dad, last time I was there. But… I’m never guaranteed that I’d be in a condition to actually help if I got injured…”

Metal nodded, “I won’t be able to help my parents either.”

“Yeah, what do they do?”

“Well, both are retired now. Dad still takes on a few smaller construction gigs every now and then. Mom is the designated babysitter for my sister. Nothing I’m up for at the moment. Probably won’t be up for it again either, if I don’t heal well enough to get back in the field.”

“Well, I’ve met your nephews and your niece…” Sonny started, “And I can see how you wouldn’t keep up with them if you weren’t cleared for active duty first, but I do think you’d be up for helping your dad out with light-duty stuff after your leg recovers.”

Metal shrugged, “As much as this hurts right now… I can’t imagine it…”

“Well, I believe in ya…” Sonny drawled next to him, “If anyone’s strong enough to make it back after that accident right there, it’s you.”

Metal swallowed hard, “Thanks bud…”

They ended up chatting about all and nothing for a good while. Both knowing it probably was comforting for the other one to just be able to talk quietly into the night. At least until Sonny fell asleep.

* * *

The last few clicks went okay enough. The terrain had taken a turn for the more challenging, but nothing they couldn’t handle.

They needed almost six hours for the last five clicks, but with the rough and steep terrain, and the fact that they had to carry Full Metal for the second day in a row, the pace they kept was a good one.

* * *

“See you back home, brother…” Trent winked Metal before he turned his attention to the medics who would take care of him until they got to a hospital, “Take good care of him, alright?”

The medic closest to him, the one who looked like he was all of 14 years old, nodded. “WILCO!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, went on a pretty deep-dive in research of what sort of stretcher they could possibly have with them for the mission.  
> I remember we had these second hand stretchers from the military at the Red Cross unit I was with. They were heavy and could only be collapsed sideways, so you had a 2.2 meter long log with fabric on it, which weighed way more than it should have.  
> Anyway, figured out that there are way better options out there now, and I pictured the collapsible stretcher from Golden Season, or something like it as somethign which would be sturdy enough to be used for about all injuries our boys could encounter, yet light enough and collapsible enough to actually bring for the different missions.


	13. Breathe in, breathe out  - Sonny

**No 13. BREATHE IN BREATHE OUT**  
Delayed Drowning | Chemical Pneumonia | Oxygen Mask

* * *

He couldn’t stop coughing. His body felt like it was running on emergency resources. His hands felt tingly, his lips were numb, his face red hot.

He tried hitting himself in the chest in order to help what he was coughing on up. Another mouthful of clear slime came up, but it didn’t feel like it helped any.

His arms felt weak, and he was glad he was seated and not standing. He wasn’t sure his legs would carry him at the moment.

His chest hurt. His heart felt like it was beating all the way up in his throat.

“Do you know what he inhaled?” one of the medics asked everyone present.

“No.” Jason’s voice answered somewhere in the room.

He coughed up another helping of clear slime and spit it out in the kidney basin he had been handed.

“Mr. Quinn, I’m gonna give you a mask. The mask has oxygen. It’s going to help your lungs get oxygen over to your body. Breathe in, breathe out. Okay?”

He wanted to come back with a snarky remark, he knew damn well what oxygen did. He just wasn’t able to speak right now.

He grabbed the mask and placed it over his nose and mouth, looking up at the medic.


	14. Is something burning - Brock

**No 14. IS SOMETHING BURNING?**  
Branding | ~~Heat Exhaustion~~ | Fire

* * *

His body ached from the position he was sitting in. A three feet by three feet by three feet metal cage was a little small for his tall frame to sit comfortably in. He wasn’t even sure it was a full three feet, probably not.

He felt sorry for Cerberus, but then again, Cerberus willingly crawled into his cage every evening.

And Cerberus’s cage was probably larger than this one.

He could barely believe he had gotten himself into this situation by something as stupid as losing his footing in the jungle, and slipping down a hill. Straight into his capturers lap, so to speak.

They had stripped him down to his boxer briefs. Tossed cold water on him, and now they were building a large fire.

He didn’t know much about the locals, but the fire was making him nervous. He did not want to end up as somebody’s dinner.

He was almost relieved when one of the older men brought out something which resembled a branding iron and placed it partially in the fire.

The iron started glowing.

It was red-hot by the time the same man as earlier picked it up.

He yelled something Brock didn’t understand to a group of younger men, and they moved towards him.

* * *

He was pretty sure his lungs were about to pop out the way he screamed when the burning hot iron pressed against his left shoulder blade.

Then five rapid shots came in quick succession. The hands wrapped around his arms and legs fell away. The branding iron fell to the ground behind his feet.

He crumbled to his knees. Sobs rolling off his lips as his left shoulder stung and burnt.

“Easy there buddy…” Sonny’s voice rolled soothingly from the Texan, “We’ve got you…”

The sobs evolved into cusswords.

“We’ve got you…” Sonny repeated.

“Hell of a timing guys!” he bit out, “Could’ve rescued me ten seconds earlier, BEFORE they branded me!”

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that…” Sonny winced in sympathy.


	15. Into the unknown - Ray

**No 15. INTO THE UNKNOWN**  
 ~~Possession | Magical Healing | Science Gone Wrong~~  
Alt. prompts: Nightmares | Comfort

* * *

Naima woke from her husband tossing and turning in the bed next to her. He was repeating a word, or a name, in his sleep. She didn’t recognize it, it sounded foreign.

“Ray…” she turned the lights on and sat up, “Ray, wake up…”

He didn’t notice her, and kept on twisting and repeating that word or name.

“Ray.” She repeated his name a little louder this time around. “Ray, you’re dreaming.”

All of the sudden he sat up straight, chest heaving.

“Just a bad dream…” she assured when his eyes found hers.

He sighed and let himself fall back against his pillow

“You’re safe…” she promised and let her hand touch against his upper arm.

“Bad memory…” he corrected, “Was running a bit of the highlight reel…”

“Oh…” she frowned, “Want to talk about it?”

He shook his head, and looked over at her hand against his arm, “Can’t really do that.”

She nodded a little.

“It was the one with Peter Reeves.”

“-Oh…” she frowned as she laid back down herself, one hand toying with his hair, the other one resting on his stomach.

He nodded before he rolled over and hugged her, she wrapped her arms around him in return. They stayed like that, Naima tried to ignore the wet feeling near her shoulder, and the wet hiccups of crying which came from her husband every now and then. She let one hand trace up and down his back until his breath evened out, and she believed he had fallen back to sleep.


	16. A terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day  - Trent and Full Metal + Sick Clay

**No 16. A TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD DAY**  
Forced to Beg | Hallucinations | Shoot the Hostage

* * *

It had started out like any other spin up. But they had barely been out there for two hours when stuff started going downhill, fast.

The spin up was already bad enough before it started spiraling. Clay didn’t feel so hot. He couldn’t really pinpoint anything being wrong, but he didn’t feel good. Nowhere near the point where it was alright to say home, but he felt tired and worn out. Probably needed a good night’s rest once that was a possibility once again.

But nothing was ever simple, and the only easy day was yesterday. About two hours into the mission when they started taking fire, and were forced to dive for cover.

* * *

He wasn’t able to focus like he usually did when he returned fire. It was hard enough to balance his weapon in front of him. So he figured he’d just do his best and hope that he hit some of those shooting at them.

Bullets were crashing into tree trunks, the ground and rocks. It felt like forever, like it always did. Seconds felt like minutes.

Luckily for them, the enemies stopped just as suddenly they had started. They saw some of their enemies 

“Everyone okay?” Jason asked from where he had hunkered down.

A couple of versions of ‘yeah’ sounded from the rest of the team, Clay included.

“Mostly…” Full Metal shrugged as he let he head fall against the boulder he was leaned up against. Taking a few slow breaths.

“No.” Trent frowned, cradling his right arm.

“You alright there, Trent?” Sonny who was closest to him asked.

“No…” Trent shook his head a little, “Think I broke my wrist. -Or sprained the hell out of it…”

“Ouch…” Sonny sympathized.

“And you Metal?” Jason asked, “What does ‘mostly’ mean?”

Metal looked back at him before he started getting to his feet, like many of the other team members, “Twisted ankle… And kneed a rock or something… Nothing to worry about.”

“Kneed a rock?” Sonny tilted his head, “Don’t you have kneepads on?”

Metal nodded once he was standing. He stood for a couple of seconds before a frown started spreading across his face and he bent down at his hips and pulled up one leg of his pants.

“Whoah-kay…” Sonny grimaced, “Your knee is bleeding!”

Metal hummed a short agreement, before he let the leg of his pants fall back down.

“You had kneepads on, right?”

“Yeah.” Metal nodded, slight confusion expressed on his face.

“Then why is your knee bleeding?”

“Don’t bother about it…” Metal shrugged, “I think Trent needs your attention more than I do.”

“Oh, yup… Sorry…” Sonny frowned as he turned towards Trent, who was still supporting his right arm.

* * *

Metal sensed Sonny and Ray helping Trent out while he tried to figure out why the heck his own knee was bleeding enough to soak his boot.

He found an inch-wide hole in the outer fabric. He pressed his middle finger inside, and prodded against the kneepad. Found a slit there as well. Something had sliced straight through his kneepad.

He glanced around, looking for what could be the culprit.

* * *

“Can you wiggle your fingers?” Sonny asked as he demonstrated what he wanted Trent to attempt.

“You know I’m usually the one who makes you goons do the finger wiggling!” Trent scowled, “No. I can’t. Already tried.”

“Copy that.” Sonny scrounged up his nose, “What do you recommend?”

“Splint it and sling it.”

“Sling as well?”

“My elbow and shoulder won’t be doing me any favors if I don’t support my arm…” Trent sighed, “The old injury really acts up whenever I hurt my arm a little.”

Sonny nodded, “SAM-splint?”

Trent nodded.

“Hey, Sonny… Toss me some sutures, will you?” Full Metal called out. Sonny did like he was asked, and Metal caught the small package in mid-air.

* * *

“I’ll be last man…” Full Metal announced as they prepared to get going once more.

“Like hell you will!” Trent scowled, “Didn’t you say you twisted your ankle? We can’t have the possibly slowest guy last.”

“My ankle is fine.” Metal set his jaw and leaned onto his busted ankle, “Just had one of those half minute stingers. All good now.”

“-And your knee?” Sonny asked.

“Just a small laceration. Two or three rough stitches and it was all good.”

Trent scowled at him, trying to act like he was in the process of looking straight through Metal.

“I won’t need to, but If I start falling behind, I can just say so… Or whistle, or key my mike…” Metal shrugged.

“Alright! Alright!” Jason threw his hands up in the air, “Trent, if Metal says he’s fine, he’s fine! Let’s get going!”

* * *

Many hours later, the sun was about to dip down below the horizon.

He hated to admit it, but he was struggling to keep up. Hadn’t it been for Clay being a ridiculous lot slower than usual, he would’ve fallen behind. The other guys adjusted their speed a little to Clay. The kid didn’t look too good. He looked like he was running a fever or something.

Full Metal was edging on desperate to get off his right leg. He had of course lied when he insinuated that his ankle was all good. His knee wasn’t that much better.

He was constantly chewing at the inside of his chin in order to distract himself from the pain in his leg.

* * *

They set up camp for the night and tried to get some sleep. One man keeping watch at all times.

Full Metal didn’t sleep much. At best he tried to look like he was sleeping most of the night.

His ankle was throbbing violently, and he knew it would’ve been smarter to actually do something about his ankle. It was badly sprained, but right now it throbbed and cut like it was broken instead.

He should’ve iced his ankle, kept it elevated, given it rest. But instead he had trekked through a jungle-landscape for ten more hours.

He just hoped it wouldn’t be worse tomorrow. But he knew it would. It always was, and the way he had treated his damn leg ensured it definitely would be worse by daylight.

* * *

Clay felt like absolute shit the next morning.

His head hurt, his shoulders hurt, his hips and knees hurt. Even his hands hurt. And his face felt funny.

He groaned as he opened his eyes. He felt feverish. Felt like hell.

“What’s that kid?” Sonny drawled as he rubbed his eyes.

“I feel like shit…”

Sonny took one look at Clay before he started laughing. “What did you do to your face?”

“Huh?”

“You look like someone slapped you!” Sonny choked out as he tried not to laugh. “And like your face gained 30 pounds!”

“Shhh…” Clay frowned, “My everything hurts…”

“You really don’t look good…” Trent chuckled, “But you do look hilarious.”

“Fuck you guys…”

“Do you have a fever?” Trent asked starting to sit up.

“Feels like it.” Clay groaned.

Trent leaned closer, careful not to jostle his right arm, and reached out for Clay’s forehead with his left.

“Damn, you’re burning up…”

Clay nodded a little.

“You’re getting a Tylenol breakfast.” Trent frowned, “Or anything fever reducing I can find…”

“Can I just stay here…?”

“No, sorry kid…” Trent shook his head, “Think we’ll need to keep an eye on you.”

“I don’t think I can…”

“We’ll figure something out…” Trent shrugged a little, “Worst case, Sonny, Brock or Metal will have to carry you…”

“Huh?” Brock stirred a little at the mention of his name, “What are you volunteering me for now?”

“Clay’s sick.” Sonny shot in before Trent could get around to it, “Looking and feeling like shit. Probably won’t keep up with us today.”

Brock shifted his gaze to Clay, and literally snorted a laugh, “Sorry. You’ve gotta feel awful… But someone needs to take a picture of your face before that passes.”

“Not funny.”

“-From an outside point of view, it is…” Trent tilted his head a little.

“We should probably wake the others as well…” Sonny yawned, “Is Ray the watch right now?”

Brock checked his watch and nodded.

Poked Jason awake first, not surprised when he couldn’t keep from laughing at how ridiculous and beat Clay looked.

“It’s not like Full Metal to sleep through this much noise…” Sonny frowned, looking over at the greying man.

“Think he had trouble falling asleep tonight…” Brock shrugged, “He was awake when I went to relieve Jason, and when I came back after Ray came to relieve me.”

“Yeah?” Trent frowned, “That man can sleep anywhere. Anytime.”

“Wake him.” Jason nodded to Brock.

Brock did as he was told, and shook Metal’s shoulder.

“Wai- What?” Metal frowned as he blinked awake.

“Wake up sleepy-head…” Brock smirked, earning himself a tired scowl from Full Metal, “Sleep well?”

Metal only groaned in return.

“That means: Not enough, and get me some coffee before you speak to me again…” Trent translated helpfully, “There’s also a threat of what’s going to happen without coffee… But that’s hard to describe verbally.”

“Thanks, I speak fluent morning-caveman myself…” Brock winked, “But yeah, we’ve gotta see if Bravo-2 fixed us some coffee while being on the last lookout of the night.”

* * *

He did not know how he was going to be able to keep up with the others today. His ankle felt like it had knives inside of it. And he was pretty sure that it was so swollen that he would’ve had problems with getting his right boot back on, if he had taken it off the evening before.

Luckily he hadn’t.

“Here… Peace offering…” Brock said as he returned from where Ray had been lookout the last hour or so with a kettle of fresh brewed coffee.

Full Metal and the others found their respective coffee mugs and held them out so Brock could fill them up.

Metal warmed his hands on his cup for a couple of minutes before he was ready to take a sip.

He savored the first sip. Savored it while he tried to work out in his head how he was going to work around his leg that day. He didn’t even know how he was going to get up.

“What’s with Clay’s face…” he frowned after a while, it had taken him a bit of time to see it.

“Can we not talk about my face, please…” Clay pretty much whined, “I don’t feel good.”

“I can see that…” He smirked, taking another sip of coffee, then he focused on Trent, “How’s your wrist?”

Bravo-4 offered up a slight grimace, “Let’s just say it’s gonna be good to have some pictures taken of it when we get home…”

Metal nodded.

“And you, how’s the leg?”

“Not too bad…” Blatant lie, “Feels like it might’ve stiffened up a bit overnight.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded. “But, nothing to worry about. I’ll just be limping a bit the first hour or so. But looking over at Clay, I don’t think I’ll be the one to slow anyone down today.”

“I’m tryin’ to convince them to just leave me here…” Clay muttered into his elbow.

“That’s not gonna happen…” Sonny smirked.

* * *

Ray chuckled a bit when he first saw Clay that morning, but quickly composed himself. “You don’t look so hot…”

“I feel like I’ve been dragged through the grinder and hung up wet.” Clay winced as he sat and tried drinking some coffee one of the guys had put in front of him.

“That’s sooo many mix-ups I’m not even going to try to break it down…” he frowned, “You kinda look like my daughter did when she had this disease last year.”

Clay barely hummed a questioning tone.

“Ever had the fifth disease before?”

“The fifth what?”

“The fifth disease…” Ray repeated, “Has a long fancy medical name. But I’m not going to try to remember that. She had those slapped looking apple-cheeks as well. Although it looks like you got it worse than she did.”

“I feel like death…”

“Should we have called in medevac for him?” Trent asked, looking up at Ray.

“I don’t think that should be necessary…” Ray scrounged up his nose, “But I think it’s like chicken pox… Like, it’s no big deal when you’re a kid, but believe me… You don’t want chicken pox when you’re 32.”

“Speaking from experience?”

Ray nodded.

“I’m kinda hesitant about dragging him along…” Trent admitted, “He’s got a pretty bad fever.”

Ray nodded, “He’d sure slow us down.”

“We pass this point headed for exfil as well.” Jason shrugged, “Could leave him here, have Trent stay back and watch over him.”

“Best idea ever!” Clay shot in.

Trent didn’t argue. He knew the reason for it being him and not Metal who would stay behind. Metal could still hold his own in combat, he on the other hand couldn’t even aim his rifle at the moment. And even though he had the most experience with first aid, and usually was the team’s medic, all the other guys were skilled as well. Every tier-one operator was. And neither him or Clay would be fit for a fight right now.

“No one’s arguing?” Jason asked. No one did. “Okay, then it’s set. We’ll be two men short for the main portion of the mission, but…”

“Well just be in the way and slow you down if we continue.” Trent nodded.

“Yeah.” Jason nodded, “If Clay’s situation takes a turn for the worse, feel free to call in medevac…”

“No, I just need rest…” Clay winced, “This is A TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD DAY…”

Trent nodded at Jason.

* * *

It was much harder to mask how bad his leg hurt today. But he managed to get out from under the tarp without anyone noticing, and once he was outside it was just a matter of not walking while anyone was looking at him.

Easy.

* * *

NOT EASY!

They had walked for almost two hours in rough terrain, and he was seriously struggling to keep up. Seriously struggling not to sound his discomfort as well.

“Take five!” Jason called, signaling them all to stop.

He had probably never been as relieved to have a short break before.

“Scotty… You’re looking a bit…” Jason shrugged, “That ankle bothering you?”

“A little…” he had to admit it. He was slowing them down, putting weight on his foot was increasingly painful, and he was pretty sure it was more than sprained by now.

“Do you need to sit the rest of the mission out?”

“No. I can deal with it.” He sighed, “But it’s gonna be nice to get this one done.”

Jason nodded.

“Feels like this mission is cursed…” Sonny frowned, “Clay is sick. Trent and Full Metal hurt.”

“Hey. Ain’t that bad.” Metal shrugged, looking like he actually meant it.

“Anyway, I’m not liking it!”

“None of us do…” Ray shrugged.

* * *

Sometimes things has a peculiar way of going from bad to worse. And this mission truly followed Murphy’s law to the point.

He had been on his way to sneak out to a position when he suddenly heard the telltale sound of a pump action shotgun being cocked behind him.

“Damn it…” he muttered to himself.

“Drop weapon!”

There was no way he would be fast enough to do anything other than what they guy behind him ordered. So he did as he was told.

“Alpha-1, see you’ve got some company.” Sonny’s voice whispered into his ear through the coms.

He nodded a little.

Then he guy behind him said something in a language he didn’t understand and all of the sudden four pairs of arms wrapped around his arms.

“Walk!”

He knew he didn’t have an option.

* * *

They made it down to a building. He was tied up against a pillar.

And then time stretched on.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before he saw Brock’s camo-grease covered face behind a few leaves.

“SHOOT HOSTAGE! SHOOT HOSTAGE!” the same voice as earlier started screaming all of the sudden. And that’s when the air exploded with gunfire.

His instinct to get down and make himself as small as he could was overruled by the ropes which tied him to the pillar. But he didn’t get hit.

The gunfire died down. A couple of seconds passed, then Sonny and Brock stepped out of the bushes.

“We got what we came for…” Brock winked as he tapped his earpiece to indicate that Ray or Jason had said something over the radio. “How are you?”

“Tired of standing.”

“Understandable…” Sonny nodded as he cut the ropes.

He couldn’t disguise it anymore once he was free to walk once more.

“How bad is that ankle…”

“Right now?”

Brock nodded.

“Bad.” Metal shrugged as he prepared for another tentative step. Grimacing as pain shot through his ankle.

“We should take a look at that.”

“If that boot comes off, it’s not going back on for a few days…” Metal admitted.

“Hey, Bravo-1… What’s the status on that guy we were sent here to get?”

“Probably a couple bruised or broken ribs. Many lacerations.” Jason answered, “Probably a mild concussion.”

“You think we could trick them into sending a medevac for him? -Toss Metal in there with him?”

“Is everything okay?”

“Remember that ankle?” Sonny smirked, “Sure hasn’t gotten any better.”

“Yeah, we could probably work something out.” Jason chuckled, “Tell him it’s a case of beer.”

Sonny smirked and looked up at Full Metal, “Case of beer, and you might fly out of here.”

“Deal.” Metal chuckled, “We’re stopping to pick up Trent and Clay as well?”

“No.” Sonny shook his head, “Trent already made that call.”

“Clay got worse?”

“No, not necessarily worse…” Sonny shrugged, “Just decided it was inhumane to keep him out there.”

“Oh. Okay.”

* * *

24 hours later, most of them were sitting in couches and chairs in the room next to their cages.

There were two cases of their favorite beer under the table, and everyone except Clay were there. He was at home, sleeping.

Everyone had at least some scrapes and bruises, but the two only real injuries were on Trent and Full Metal.

Trent had a cast up above his elbow, and had his arm in a sling. The x-rays had proved that he had broken his radius right above the wrist.

Full Metal had a walking boot on his right leg, which held his ankle stable enough until the swelling went down enough for the doctors to put his fibula back together with some new hardware and reattach a tendon which had said sayonara.

Most of the team had scolded him for not telling them how bad his ankle had really been, but in a way they had been understanding about it as well.

That being said, they contemplated putting up a 24hour watch to make sure he rested and kept his ankle elevated until the surgery.


	17. I did not see that coming - Full Metal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay, this one got sparked by one of my other fics, Crush, where Full Metal injures his leg on a mission. At one point I have Blackburn trying to lure Full Metal in on desk duty for an OP while still having an ex-fix frame on most of his leg.  
> I’ve got Full Metal not promising that he’ll be in uniform from waist down (or something like that), and Blackburn saying “Don’t worry about it. If anyone decides to give you hell for showing up in a pair of Hello Kitty pajama pants or whatever you decide to show up in, they’ll have to answer to me.”  
> To which Metal replies that he almost wished he had a pair of Hello Kitty pants to show up in, just for the hell of it.  
> So… I figured…  
> What if Blackburn… Decided to order a pair of Hello Kitty pajama pants for Full Metal. And that kinda became Full Metal’s ‘I’m home sick/injured’-pants?  
> -because I’ve got no shame...

**No 17. I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING**  
Blackmail | Dirty Secret | ~~Wrongfully Accused~~

* * *

The doorbell rang. He didn’t even bother looking up. The concussion he had felt bad enough when he was laying completely still, and the knee injury he had suffered alongside it caused him to be very particular about what he was willing to get up for. He had stepped in a hole after he had gotten the concussion, and hyperextended the living hell out of his left knee.

The door unlocked. Dammit.

He heard the door being opened. Heard someone pick something up. Then laughter. “What the actual hell?”

“Shhh…” he frowned, “Concussion. Remember?”

Trent was still laughing as he set the grocery bags down on the kitchen counter, “Hello Kitty pants?”

He was too tired to defend himself, and decided that just humming affirmation would have to do.

“Why are you in Hello Kitty pants?” He could hear the shit-eating grin Trent sported while he asked.

“Because they fit nicely under the leg brace…”

“No-no-no…” Trent was still chuckling, “Why do you HAVE a pair of Hello Kitty pants at all?”

“Blackburn…”

“Blackburn?”

“Yeah. Gave them to me after I crushed my leg a few years back… As a joke.” Full Metal sighed, “They’re really comfy. Okay?”

“The big, scary, freaky Full Metal…” Trent smirked, “In a sugar-pink pair of Hello Kitty pajama pants…”

Metal chanced a look over at Trent, who was still grinning way wider than he had any right to. His headache spiked and he grimaced and pressed the heel of his hand down over his right eye.

“I did not see that coming…”

“I’m not in a condition to be made fun of right now…” Metal winced, “Not with lot of laughing and chuckling at least…”

“Sorry…” Trent smirked and bit down on his lower lip in order to keep from laughing.

Metal looked back up again when he heard the sound of a phone taking a picture.

“Whoops…” Trent shrugged, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell your dirty little secret, not before I need something to blackmail you with.”

“You know what? I don’t even care…” Metal sighed before he placed his forearm back over his eyes, “And can you whisper or something?”

“How are you feeling?” Trent sighed, actually lowering his voice to a level where he thought Metal would accept it a little better.

“My brain feels like oobleck or something. -Or like it’s been dislocated.”

“You know you’re making it really hard for me not to laugh…?” Trent tilted his head, “How’s the knee?”

“Still sore.” Metal sighed.

Trent nodded, well knowing that Metal wouldn’t see it with his forearm blocking all of his visual input.

“You hungry?”

“Not really…” Metal sighed.

“Well, you should get some calories inside of you. And I don’t really care where they come from.” Trent shrugged, “What could you eat, or drink?”

“I’m low-grade nauseous from my head spinning every time I accidentally move it.” Metal frowned, “I’m not hungry.”

Trent nodded a little, “Okay. But I’m gonna try to get some food into you anyway. Deal?”

“You don’t have to…”

“Team medic.” Trent shrugged, “On and off missions.”

“Jase said you never come around bothering him when he’s injured.”

“That’s because I know that guy takes care of himself even then.” Trent smirked, “So does Clay as well. Ray has Naima to take care of him. Brock… Doesn’t really get hurt that often… And Sonny has Clay.”

Metal sighed.

“How does toast sound?”

“No.”

“Okay…” Trent sighed, “Bagel with jam?”

“No.”

“Ham and cheese?”

Metal sighed, “No.”

“Okay, can you please tell me something you wouldn’t say no to?”

“I’m not sure…” Metal sighed, “Can’t you just leave me alone in my misery?”

“Fruit?”

“…Yes.”

“Okay, I’ll cut up some apples and bananas.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Trent smiled, “You want some coffee as well?”

“No.”

“How bad did you hit your head?” Trent mused, a little louder.

“Can you whisper? Please?”

“Sorry…” Trent whispered, “Blue Gatorade? Does that sound okay?”

“Yup.”

“Super.” Trent nodded, “Bagel with honey?”

“Okay…”

“Good.” Trent nodded to himself, “You need me to find something for you to ice your knee with?”

“No.” Metal sighed, “I need quiet. My head is tired.”

Trent nodded, but found one of the icepacks Metal had in the freezer for occasions like this. He went into the bathroom and found a towel and wrapped around it, before he went back to Metal. “I’ve got an icepack here in my hand, do you want me to place it on top of your knee, under, inside or outside of your knee?”

“Under…”

Trent nodded a little, “Okay if I grab under your calf to lift your leg a bit?”

“Yeah…”

Trent helped Metal place the icepack under his knee, and smirked as Metal let go of a content little sigh as the angry backside of his knee got to rest against something colder.

“Thank you.”

“See, it would be easier if you just agreed to the help in the first place…” Trent shrugged.

Metal frowned from under his own arm.

“I’ll fix you some snacks, then I’ll be quiet…”

“Thank you.”

  
* * *

Not too long after, Trent sat down a plate with cut up apples, bananas and a closed bagel with honey cut in four pieces. Along with a bottle of blue Gatorade. Then he sat down in the chair next to the couch and continued reading through the first aid protocols he had printed out earlier, for repetition. Still smiling every now and then when Metal either reached for a bite, or just when he remembered that one of his best friends was wearing a very pink, very Hello Kitty pair of pajama pants. 


	18. Panic! At the disco  - Sonny

**No 18. PANIC! AT THE DISCO**  
Panic Attacks | Phobias | Paranoia

* * *

His pulse was beating in his head. It felt like he was having a heart attack. Taking a proper breath was not an option.

He looked down at where his wrists were duct taped to the armrests of a wooden chair. Taped all the way up two thirds of his forearms. And then further up his right arm there was a stretchy rubber band which minutes earlier had blocked his venous flow, causing his veins to plump up. The guy had released it once he was done.

In the crease of his elbow there was a red dot, with bruising around it. Where the needle had entered.

The same guy had also forced something into his mouth. Sonny didn’t know what.

His heart felt like it was going to explode.

His jaw hurt. No matter how he tried to move it, it still had that weird WRONG feeling.

And even though his arms were taped down, they were shaking. Entire him was shaking. This was not his idea of fun. Not by a long shot.

He felt like he was going to puke.

He wasn’t sure if he was having a panic attack because of the drug he had been injected with, or because of the effects the drug had on the body. Or just because he felt like he was having a damn heart attack. Or because he was taped to a chair in the basement of an old disco parlor which smelled like cheap beer and sex.

He blinked trying to clear his vision. Didn’t help.

“HELP!” he tried, “HEEEEELP!”

The only answer he got was raw laughter from the rear corner of the room. Then footsteps coming at him, he expected a human to come up next to him. But it was an alien. With six foot long arms, and a dragged face. The alien was coming to get him.

If panic hadn’t gripped him by then, it sure did now.

“HEEEEEELLLPPP!”

  
* * *

All of the sudden he had Trent’s hand under his chin and a flashlight shining into his eyes. Except Trent had this weird snake wrapping around his helmet, and that was ALL Sonny could focus on. He didn’t want to be bitten by that snake. He didn’t know if it was venomous or not. It probably was. Most snakes were. All snakes were, right?

* * *

“My guess?” Trent shrugged a little and looked over at Jason, “He’s having a bad trip. There’s trackmarks on his arm. He’s been gone for 31 hours. And, his pupils are almost blocks out his irises…”

“Well, if it’s one guy who would have a bad trip no matter what sort of recreational drug he was given, it’d be him…”

“Oh, yeah…” Trent nodded, “Gotta be seeing pink elephants flying around with orange crocodiles on their back…”

“CROCODILES?”

“No-no-no…” Trent grimaced, “I think you’re having a bad trip buddy… You know what they gave you?”

Sonny shook his head like he was a paint mixer.

“No?”

“Something. Something. Some. They gave something in the arm.”

“We know.” Trent nodded.

“And mouth.” Sonny added, focusing on what he believed was a snake, but in reality was just a strap to secure something to his helmet with.

“They gave you something in your mouth as well?”

“You need to remove that snake, it’s looking funny at me.”

“What? What snake Sonny?” Jason frowned.

“Bad trip…” Trent shrugged at Jason, “Probably believes he sees a snake somewhere.”

“Your helmet!”

“My helmet?”

“Yeah. Snake.”

Trent reached towards his helmet.

“DON’T TOUCH IT! IT’LL BITE AND KILL YA!”

“-Let’s get him outta here.” Trent sighed and looked up at Jason, “He needs someone who knows how to treat this. It’s a bit beyond my… Expertise…”


	19. Broken hearts - Ray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright... I got lazy...  
> Sorry...

**No 19. BROKEN HEARTS**  
Grief | Mourning Loved One | Survivor’s Guilt

* * *

Ray sat in Jason’s living room. They had an old photo album on the table.

A picture in particular made something knit around his heart in a painful way. The kid was 26, had been a SEAL for a few weeks, barely. Yet that picture was the last one ever taken of him.

“Wasn’t your fault.” Jason said quietly after Ray hadn’t turned the page for a short eternity.

“It was. You know it.” Ray clipped back, “Should’ve been me.”

“No.” Jason shook his head.

“I told him to go around the south side of the building.” Ray glared, “Because I didn’t want to walk those fifty extra yards.”

“You didn’t know.” Jason sighed, “None of us knew. We weren’t even on a critical mission. We were out getting lunch.”

“Yeah, and he’s dead because I sent him to get something to drink for us all.”

Jason shook his head, “He’s dead because someone brought an assault rifle to a market on a sunny day.”


	20. Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore - All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Good thing I’m a few days ahead of schedule, because I felt like I had to watch Wizard of Oz before I could go ahead with this prompt. Because, I’ve NEVER SEEN IT BEFORE!  
> HOW the F did I make it almost three decades without seeing that movie?
> 
> Also, this might connect to another chapter later, or a something. I plan on visiting the now infamous Hello Kitty attire once again in a later chapter.

**No 20. TOTO, I HAVE A FEELING WE’RE NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE**  
Lost | Field Medicine | ~~Medieval~~

* * *

Jason rubbed hard at Clay’s sternum, hoping to wake the youngest member of their team.

Hazed blue eyes blinked up at him and a pained grunt escaped the blond guy.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore…”

“How is he?” Trent asked from where he was tending to one of the other guys.

“Think he hit his head.” Jason frowned, “Unfocused eyes, and thinks he’s Dorothy from the wizard of Oz…”

Trent nodded, “I’ll take a look at him later. -Ready to roll?”

“Yes.” Brock nodded as he tilted the litter at an angle so they wouldn’t have to physically lift Metal to get him on it. He also held a rolled up shirt in place so it would land behind the small of Metal’s back and give some support there, if it was needed.

Sonny and Ray had their hands wrapped in the fabric of Metal’s uniform, Sonny’s left hand at his shoulder, Ray’s left hand at his waist, Sonny’s right hand on his hip, Ray’s right hand near his knees.

“Ready.” Both Bravo 2 and 3 nodded.

“Roll up!” Trent ordered as he held Metal’s head in line with the rest of his spine.

They moved as one. Trent, Sonny and Ray rolling Metal onto his side and Brock lifting the litter in right behind Alpha-1’s back.

“Ready to roll back?” Trent asked.

The guys let him know they were.

“Roll back.”

Trent held Metal’s head until Sonny had placed something under the man’s head and neck so his head wouldn’t fall back from the current position, and something on each side to make sure they could secure his head completely.

“How are you doing?” Trent asked looking down at Metal.

“The neck brace and all of that is overkill…” Metal frowned as he pointed towards his head. “Told you it’s my lower back which is hurting.”

“Better safe than sorry…” Trent shrugged, “And I don’t like that you’re moving your arms either. Just in case…”

Metal rolled his eyes and let his right hand fall back to his side.

“Can you still feel your legs?”

“Yeah…” Metal paused, “Think I still can wiggle my toes as well”

“Let’s see it then…” Trent nodded towards Metal’s feet, and waited for the man to attempt, “Congrats, you’re right.”

“You should look to Clay…” Metal paused, “Pretty sure one of the others can secure me to this litter without you.”

* * *

“How is he?” Sonny asked as he stepped over to where Trent was checking on Clay.

“He called me Tinman…” Trent frowned, “Asked if I wanted to come with him to Oz to get a heart…”

Sonny chuckled a bit, “What does that make me?”

“Definitely the scarecrow…” Trent chuckled, “-Or the cowardly lion… You could be that as well…”

“Okay, not gonna take that personally…” Sonny frowned, “So he got his bell rung, anything else?”

“He yelped when I bumped into his leg…” Jason shot in, “Looked swollen above his ankle, but wasn’t able to get him to tell us if he was hurt anywhere else…”

“See if you find another neck brace in the chopper.” Trent ordered, “Just in case he injured his neck as well as his head.”

Sonny nodded and limped over to the downed helicopter they had crash landed with.

* * *

“So…” Metal sighed, looking over at Brock by only moving his eyes, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m not the one on a stretcher…” Brock tilted his head a little.

“No, but you also took a hard landing with a helicopter. And Sonny had to pop your shoulder back in place…”

Brock nodded.

“So, how are you?”

“Shoulder’s gonna be sore for a while…” Brock shrugged the shoulder which hadn’t been dislocated recently, “Glad Cerberus didn’t come on this mission.”

“Yeah, that’s luck…”

Brock nodded, “And you?”

“All this is probably blown way out of proportion…” Metal sighed, “Pretty sure my back is fine. Just a bit beaten up…”

“Well, Trent’s got a point with that ‘better safe than sorry’ way of thinking…” Brock offered up a quick smile.

“Yup, wouldn’t be the first time he was right about something…”

Brock nodded.

* * *

The rescue chopper came for them. They were loaded in and some of the other guys had to strap in, not getting a place to sit down.

They were almost back to the base when he realized that he no longer felt his legs.

He reached down with one hand and squeezed his thigh. Nothing.

The feeling in his legs hadn’t disappeared in the blink of an eye. It was more like they had gradually gotten more and more numb. And now it was like his legs didn’t exist.

He knew it was a bad sign.

He wanted to tell someone. But the chopper was too loud, and he didn’t have a headset to speak to the others to.

How life could be from now on started playing across his retinas, he felt some sort of panic grip at him. He wasn’t ready for this. What the heck was he going to do if he couldn’t be an operator anymore?

His eyes were stinging. He couldn’t cry right now. He couldn’t.

He squeezed his other leg. Also nothing.

Then he caught Sonny’s concerned eyes.

“Can’t feel?” the Texan mouthed.

If it hadn’t been for the neck brace, he would’ve shook his head in return, but he had to resort to mouth ‘no’ back.

He saw the concern multiply in Sonny’s face, before the Texan schooled his expression, “Gonna be fine…”

He knew neither of them believed it.

* * *

“Why am I on a stretcher?” Clay asked once the helicopter engine shut off.

“We were in a heli-crash. You hit your head really bad.” Trent winked.

“Why is my neck stuck?”

“Put a neck brace on you in case you hurt your neck as well…”

“Oh…”

Trent nodded, “You feel any pain?”

“Now that you mention it, my head feels like I got in a headbutting match with an ox.” Clay frowned, “And pretty sure my ankle’s broken…”

“Good.”

“How’s that good?” Clay frowned.

“Trust me, if you feel your legs, that’s good.” Trent winked, “You really hit your head bad.”

“I had this weird dream…”

“Wizard of Oz?” Trent asked.

“How’d you know?”

“Apparently Jase is Toto, and I’m Tinman…”

“Oh no…” Clay frowned.

“Oh yes…” Trent chuckled, “Dorothy…”

* * *

“…Why are you here?” Clay frowned as Full Metal was rolled into the same room he was resting in.

“Was in the same crash as you…” Metal sighed, not looking away from the ceiling.

“Did you get hurt as well?”

“I think everyone did.”

“But you’re the only other one here. The rest is resting up on their own.”

Metal sighed.

“Come on…”

Metal tilted his head a little, to look over at the younger team member. He saw Clay had his right leg in cast, rested high on a mountain of pillows, and bruising on large areas of the left side of his face.

“You look like shit.” He almost chuckled.

“Feel like it too, if you wondered…” Clay admitted, “What are you here for?”

Metal sighed, “I broke something… Had surgery to fix it.”

“That’s vague…”

Metal nodded a little, “Broke something in my back.”

“Oh…”

Metal offered up a tired smile, “I can’t feel my legs. But the professionals said they couldn’t see any injury to the spinal cord. They think it might be because it’s swollen right now, and that it might go back to normal… Or it might not…”

Clay swallowed, “Sorry…”

Metal nodded a little.

“You broke your back, but it didn’t cut the spinal cord?”

“I broke one of those spikes…” Metal shrugged a little, “The canal the spinal cord is in was unaffected by the break. But of course everything near it swelled up. Hopefully it’ll return to normal in a few weeks or months.”

Clay nodded, “Fingers crossed.”

“Yeah, fingers crossed.”


	21. I don't feel so well  - Trent

**No 21. I DON’T FEEL SO WELL**  
Chronic Pain | Hypothermia | ~~Infection~~  
Alteration: ~~Infection~~ \--> inflammation

* * *

They had officially been deployed in the worst part of the world he could imagine for almost three months. And he was miserable.

Why in the world did they have to deploy to an icy hell out in bumfuck nowhere? Wasn’t their abilities more needed elsewhere? What kind of punishment was this?

Most of the boys had started joking about having pack ice forming in their family jewels, and he was almost certain it would be a reality within long.

He hated the cold. For many reasons. When cold weather dipped below a certain point on the thermometer, it was painful. For everyone. Except maybe the locals who seemed to thrive in the freezing hell outside their barracks.

It was painful for everyone. But it sure didn’t help his case any that his lower right arm had almost as much metal hardware inside it as it had real bones, and almost as much scar tissue as regular skin. -Or that he was missing a good portion of insulating fat from where his scars were the worst either.

He had never regained a full range of motion after the accident. His elbow wouldn’t straighten those last few degrees no matter what temperature he was in, but the fact that it was cold enough to toss boiling water in the air and have it come back down as snowflakes sure didn’t help.

His range of motion was severely compromised, and the pain was worse than he could remember it being for years. He was barely able to wrap his hand loosely around a hot coffee mug, much less actually grab something with his right.

The pain in his elbow made him be cautious of that entire arm, and that made his shoulder and neck hurt. Which all just made him more miserable.

He was used to a little pain. He’d been in some sort of chronic pain since 2008, but he could manage that pain. He was the master of that pain.

This. No.  
He did not know how to deal with this constant, throbbing, shearing, aching pain the cold weather brought him. He did not know how to keep the inflammation down, how to keep his elbow and everything else from getting worse.

* * *

“You’re aching…” it was a statement, not a question.

“That obvious?” he sighed.

“You look like your arm should be in a sling…” cold eyes locked on his, “How bad is it?”

He looked down at the table, not really interested in having to look Full Metal in the eyes as he answered, “I don’t feel so well… -Feels like I’ve got a bunch of broken glass in my elbow.”

“The cold getting to you?”

He nodded.

“Wait here…” Metal tapped his hand against the table top, “I’ll be right back.”

* * *

About ten minutes later, Full Metal returned with something in one of his hands. Then he placed it in front of Trent, “Place that on your elbow, or wherever it hurts worst.”

“A long sock?” Trent scrounged up his nose.

“Filled with rice.” Full Metal nodded, “And microwaved a minute or something…”

Trent eyed it suspiciously before he grabbed it with his left, “Oh, it’s warm!”

Metal nodded.

Trent placed the warm sock-turned-heating-pad against his achy elbow, he slumped down with his head against his left arm and a satisfied sigh rolled off of him. “You, my man, are an absolute angel.”

Metal chuckled, “Not sure anyone has called me an angel before, but okay…”

Trent chuckled a little.

“Does it feel better?”

Trent nodded against his left forearm, “It’s nice.”

Metal smiled a little, “You probably should try to massage it for a while, loosen up those muscles and tendons.”

“You ever tried to massage your own elbow and shoulder?” Trent chuckled.

“Elbow should be manageable…” Metal’s eyebrows drew closer together, “But I’ll admit shoulder would be harder to get a proper angle on…”

Trent nodded, “And that’s when you can move your elbow exactly like you want to…”

Metal frowned, “Yeah, didn’t take that into account…”

Trent nodded against his forearm once again.

“I’ll do it.” Metal shrugged, “As much as this cold weather is a killer for my back, it’s gotta be worse for you and that part terminator arm of yours.”

Trent looked up a bit, “You mean that?”

“About giving you a shoulder rub?” Metal chuckled a bit, “Yeah, of course.”

* * *

Twenty minutes later Trent was pretty much asleep on his own left forearm. Full Metal’s giant hands were attempting to ease sore and stiff muscles near Trent’s elbow.

Metal looked up when the door opened and Sonny walked through it, covered in what had to be somewhere between five and ten layers of wool, wool, wool, down or fiber jacket and a shell layer to cover it all up.

“I’m next.” He drawled as he raised a hand towards where Full Metal was rubbing Trent’s arm. “I also want a hot bubble bath for my spa treatment.”

Full Metal chuckled and reached for the nearest throwable object and tossed it at Sonny.

“Hey, whoa!” Sonny chuckled as he ducked the unopened MRE, “What did you do to Trent anyway? He’s OUT COLD!”

Full Metal smirked, opting for a lie “Pressure points. He’ll wake up in a little while.”

“Okay, I’m out!” Sonny frowned, “Yeesh… Why do you always have to be so scary?”


	22. Do these tacos taste funny to you?  - Sonny

**No 22. DO THESE TACOS TASTE FUNNY TO YOU?**  
 ~~Poisoned~~ | Drugged | Withdrawal

* * *

Clay stepped into Sonny’s apartment and found the Texan just like he had left him. Shaking on the bathroom tiles.

“How are you feeling there buddy?”

He was greeted with a one-finger salute.

“Okay, that bad…”

“I’m in pain!” Sonny groaned, “I’m burnin’ up, then I’m colder than Antarctica. I’m nauseous and I’m having the shits!”

Clay nodded slowly, “Anything I can do to help?”

Sonny shook his head, but then a full body tremble took over his body and the Texan groaned and muttered profanities.

“Well, at least you’re not constipated anymore…” Clay offered, that had been one of the issues after Sonny’s latest shoulder injury.

“Screw yourself.”

“Trent warned you about quitting too fast. The doctor did too…”

“Don’t need your preachin’”

“You were on a pretty high dosage…”

Sonny just groaned and curled in on himself a little.

Clay sighed and looked down at his hand, he carried a bag of takeaway tacos. “I brought tacos in case you could eat something.”

“Nah-uh…” Sonny frowned, “99 percent chance I’d quote Dean Winchester then.”

“Huh?”

“Does these tacos taste funny to you?” Sonny winced, “Guess you never saw Supernatural, huh?”

“Nope…” Clay shook his head, “So that’s a no on the tacos?”

“Yes, that’s a nope…” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh...  
> That line warrants the mentioning of SPN, right?


	23. What's a whumpee gotta do to get some sleep around here? -Full Metal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so a few of you needed to know what happened to Metal after the "Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore" installment.   
> And, some of you enjoyed the idea of the Hello Kitty pants. 
> 
> So, yeah... Hurt Metal, a few weeks (you decide how many weeks you think that is, but it's more than 'a couple'...) after the back injury, sporting the infamous pink Hello Kitty pants.   
> (And Trent doing his best to keep Metal safe and comfortable...)

**No 23. WHAT’S A WHUMPEE GOTTA DO TO GET SOME SLEEP AROUND HERE?**  
Exhaustion | ~~Narcolepsy~~ | Sleep Deprivation

* * *

“I brought pizza…”

Metal offered up a tired smile as he focused his eyes on him.

“How are you feeling?” Trent studied his brother for a moment. He saw that he was in pain. He didn’t need the visual clue the familiar pink pajama pants were to know that much. 

Full Metal did a half-assed shrug.

“You’re already wearing Hello Kitty pants,” Trent scrounged up his nose, “It’s alright to admit that everything sucks at the moment.”

Metal nodded a little, “Well. Yeah. It does.”

“How’s your back?”

“I made it from my bedroom, to the bathroom and back here with only crutches…” Metal sighed.

“That’s good. That’s progress.”

Metal nodded a little, “Right now I think I’d prefer that amputation at C2 you’re sometimes joking about…”

Trent nodded a little, “Lots of pain?”

“Everything below the injury feels like it’s on fire.” He admitted.

“Ouch.”

Metal nodded.

“So, how long have you been stuck on the couch?”

He shrugged, “Was up pretty late. Around noon.”

“So… Give or take, six hours.”

“Sounds about right.” Metal nodded.

“Anything you need?”

“Pain meds.” Metal sighed and fixed his gaze at the ceiling, “And I was about to call Sarah down the hall for help getting back up, I really need to take a piss soon.”

Trent nodded and temporarily placed the pizza box on the kitchen counter. “Meds first?”

Metal nodded.

Trent pointed towards Metal’s bedroom, “On the nightstand, right?”

“Yeah.”

Trent nodded and went to grab them. Next to Metal’s bed he stalled a bit, “Which one? Pregabalin or diclofenac?”

“Both.” Metal closed his eyes.

Trent returned with both the vials and placed them next to Metal on the table, “So, did you at least get some good rest before you got up?”

Metal shook his head as he reached for the first orange container. “I told you that everything below the injury feels like it’s on fire right? Or like I’ve got some electrical current running through it…”

Trent scrounged up his nose. Sometimes he felt he had gotten lucky with his arm injury. There was nerve damage, but for him that mostly resulted in general numbness and sometimes a phantom type itch. He knew enough veterans who had similar injuries who experienced the more disabling symptoms from their injuries to know that even though his arm looked like a nightmare, he was one of the lucky ones. He just hoped this was something which would pass for Metal, that it wasn’t his new normal.

“-No, I haven’t been able to get a proper night’s sleep since a few days after the accident.” Metal bit out, then his eyes watered a little, “I’m tired.”

Trent nodded.

Metal popped one pill into his mouth, twisted the lid back on and reached for the other vial.

“Do you need something to swallow them down with?”

“No…” Metal shook his head as he twisted the cap of the other container.

Trent went to the fridge anyway, and brought back a bottle of water, “Here.”

Metal sighed and accepted the bottle.

* * *

“You think you could help me up?” Metal asked after about twentyfive-thirty minutes.

“How could I ever say no to a grown man in Hello Kitty pajama pants?” Trent chuckled, before he took a decisive breath, “What do you need me to do?”

“First of all?” Metal flashed a short grimace and held up a hand, “I need you to help me into a seated position.”

“Just, pull you up?”

Metal nodded, “After that, I need to get my feet on the ground…”

Trent nodded and grabbed Metal’s hand, “On three, okay?”

Metal nodded.

* * *

It had taken several minutes just to get Metal vertical. And Trent wasn’t entirely sure the other man was ready for it when he saw him crutch towards the bathroom.

“Hey, do me a favor…”

“What?” Metal didn’t turn around.

“Don’t lock the door, alright?”

“I know you know how to pick a lock…” Metal chuckled a bit, his voice was strained with either pain or concentration, “Relax, I won’t.”

“Thanks.” Trent let his shoulders relax a bit, “I’ll reheat the pizza in the meanwhile. How does that sound?”

“Good.” Metal nodded, before he half-stumbled a step and cussed.

Trent moved in close enough to place one hand on his back and one hand on his chest so the taller man wouldn’t topple over.

“You good?” he could read Metal’s body language well enough to know he wasn’t. His shoulders were tense, his arms were tense, his knuckles almost glowed white where he gripped the hand grips hard enough to make Trent feel sorry for the material.

Full Metal’s eyes were squeezed shut, and his entire face was knit in a grimace, his teeth bared.

Trent could both hear and feel how Metal tried to force his breaths even, how he tried to regain control.

“Let me know when you’re ready for me to let go, alright?” Trent said, his right hand gently gliding a couple of inches back and forth over Metal’s shoulder blade.

Metal nodded stiffly.

“Let go?”

This time Metal shook his head, but just as mechanically.

Trent nodded a little, still rubbing his right hand gently over the same spot. He didn’t like the way Metal was literally trembling.

He was pretty sure minutes passed before Full Metal looked over at him and nodded, “Think I’m ready…”

“Sure?”

Metal frowned a bit, “Keep close though…”

He couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at the worried look the slightly taller man sported.

“I mean it.” Metal gritted out, “I’m actually a bit afraid. -I don’t trust my balance.”

“I’m sorry…” Trent felt bad for almost laughing.

Metal sighed and glared at the door to the bathroom, “This. Sucks.”

“I know…” Trent nodded, “But hey, you’re actually getting better.”

Metal scoffed, “Not fast enough.”

“You were completely paralyzed from the waist down a few weeks back. The doctor said the swelling could cause permanent damage even though your spinal cord wasn’t cut.” Trent stepped in front of Metal so he’d easier meet his eyes, “It’s almost unbelievable that you’re able to move your feet, not to mention actually being able to stand and walk with crutches.”

He saw Metal’s jaw working.

“I’m being an annoying prick?”

“Pretty sure it’s mostly because of the pain, but yeah.” Metal nodded, “And move out of my way. I need to make it the last twelve feet that way…”

Trent nodded and stepped aside.

* * *

Sitting back down after his almost daredevil trip to the bathroom was almost heavenly. The meds had started kicking in, and even though everything still hurt, it was getting better.

“Think I’ll finally reheat that pizza now…” Trent winked a couple of seconds after Metal had managed to find a position he was almost comfortable in, “You’re gonna eat something whether you’re hungry or not.”

Metal nodded, “Actually, I think I could wolf down a slice or two now…”

“Good.” Trent grinned.


	24. You're not making any sense - Brock

**No 24. YOU’RE NOT MAKING ANY SENSE**  
 ~~Forced Mutism~~ | Blindfolded | Sensory Deprivation

* * *

Brock knew he was fucked before it hit him. He saw the explosion, but didn’t have time to react before stuff hit him.

It took a few seconds for the pain to register, but he instantly knew it would hurt.

He couldn’t see. It felt like he had been punched hard over his right eye, and opening his left eye caused his right to hurt.

He felt the need to press down over his right eye, but didn’t dare. He wasn’t sure what the damage was, and if he had some sort of penetrating injury to it, he didn’t want to make it worse.

He covered his eyes with his hands, his hands weren’t touching his face. He cried out in pain.

Footfalls ran towards him. Someone skidded to a halt beside him. He heard something soft hit the ground. Someone’s hands landed on his shoulders.

“What happened?” Sonny’s voice asked off to his left, obviously not the one with his hands on his shoulders.

Brock pointed in the general direction where the explosion had been.

The steps around him continued.

“Can I see your face?” Trent asked right in front of him. One of his hands had moved to Brock’s forearm.

Brock let his hands fall down to his sides.

“Okay, just keep your eyes shut, and don’t panic… You’ve got something stuck in your eye.”

“WHAT? You’re not making any sense to me?”

“You’ve got something penetrating your eye. Before you panic, I’ve seen this before, guy had 20-20 vision after it all healed.”

“Yeah, that’s possible?” Brock winced.

“Yeah, it’s possible. Not guaranteed, but possible.” Trent nodded, “Clay, run and find a paper cup or something like it.”

“Paper cup?”

“Or Styrofoam or whatever. Has to be possible to cut off some of it.”

“How many?”

“Just grab a few…”

“Looks like an accidental explosion…” Sonny drawled as his footsteps came closer once again.

“Yeah, think it was an oxygen tank or something like it which went kaboom…” Brock grimaced, “Was really far out there, I saw the blast but didn’t have time to react…”

“That’s alright…” Trent sighed, “Looks like Clay found some cups. Gonna fit one over your injured eye.”

“Okay.”

* * *

Trent cut the cup to a more fitting size and form. Then he placed it over Brock’s eye, making sure it didn’t touch what was penetrating Brock’s eye. Then he taped it down with a roll of tape he pulled out of his medic bag.

“I think it’s best I cover both your eyes with a roll of gauze. We have to try to keep you from moving your injured eye, and unfortunately our eyes doesn’t work the same way chameleon eyes work. They move as a pair.”

“Okay…”

Trent started applying the gauze. “We’re going to guide you over to the doctors, let them take a look at it and decide best course of action.”

“Yeah, okay…”


	25. I think I'll just collapse right here, thanks - Brock and Ray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I was kinda stuck on this chapter for a long time. I didn't know what to do with it and every time I started something it just went CRAP. 
> 
> But, then I got a snap from an old first aid buddy of mine, he was looking through old clips from our days at the same team, and one of our exercises. Where we... Tested how well we had strapped the stretcher, with my ex-boyfriend (prolly one of the worst decisions of my life, and I've made plenty) strapped to the stretcher.   
> We always had a lot of fun on those exercises, and we always did the STUFF YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO DO TO PATIENTS (without a damn good reason) to the 'casualty'. Like... Hanging upside down, or being leaned up against the wall for a while because sometimes terrain will be rough and you might have to lower a patient by rope on a stretcher. You wanna be damn sure your ‘secure-to-stretcher’ skills are adequate for that sort of thing.

**No 25. I THINK I’LL JUST COLLAPSE RIGHT HERE, THANKS**  
 ~~Disorientation | Blurred Vision | Ringing Ears~~  
Alt: Carry | Accidents | Falling

* * *

“Ready to roll?” Clay instructed, looking over at Full Metal, Trent, Jason, Sonny and Ray about to roll Brock onto a litter. All the guys nodded, “Roll on three. One. Two. Three.”

They got him onto the litter, without any problems.

“Alright, Metal, find something to support his head with. And a roll of something to tape his head down with, like those fancy stretchers with the Velcro strap.” Clay ordered, then he looked over at Trent, “Rope, we’ve got to secure him to the litter as well. Can you find that?”

Trent nodded with a smile.

“How are you feeling Brock?” Clay then asked, looking down at the man which head he was holding in his hands.

“I’m supposed to be unconscious.” He shrugged a little, “Can’t tell you.”

“Well, if you’re unconscious, you shouldn’t shrug either…” Trent chuckled as he got back with the length of rope and started unwinding it.

“True…” Brock sighed, “I’ll try to do a better job being unconscious.”

Clay chuckled, “Yeah, you do that…”

Trent laid a tail of the rope down along the long side of the stretcher, before he started tying it to the handles on the head-side of the stretcher. “Hey, Jase… Wanna help me from the left side?”

Jason nodded and got to his knees up by Brock’s shoulders, he pointed to a spot along Brock’s ribs. “First wrap around here?”

Trent nodded, “Take the rope down there, hold it in place and toss the rest under the stretcher to me…”

Jason did like he was told, and soon Trent looped the rest of the rope through the bend of the rope. Then they repeated it all the way down to Brock’s ankles, where they tied it around both the handles and used the tail end to make a rose at the lowest rope intersection. Then they secured the length of rope Trent had let lay down along the side of the stretcher to where the rope crossed itself at the first wrap around, making a neat rose there as well.

Clay and Full Metal had finished up securing Brock’s head, using a rolled up blanket and an ace wrap.

“All secured.” Clay smirked.

Trent nodded, “How are you feeling Brock?”

“Good. Still supposed to be unconscious though…”

“Does the strapping feel alright?”

“Yeah, I feel secure.” Brock nodded, “Good job rolling me as well. I think you made it without moving my spine.”

“Good.” Full Metal grinned, “But Trent… I feel like we’re missing an important part of every first aid exercise…”

“Yeah, we do…” a borderline evil smirk bloomed on Trent’s face, “Alright guys, let’s do the flip test.”

“Hell NO!” Brock tried fighting the ropes which held him to no avail, while his brothers picked up the stretcher and flipped it upside down.

“Good work with the ropes…” Metal chuckled, looking over at Trent and Jason, “How do you think the vertical test would go?”

“Let’s test…” Jason grinned, and the guys who held the end with Brock’s feet lowered the stretcher, while the guys at the upper end raised it. Soon enough Brock was in a vertical position hanging on the stretcher.

“I hate you…”

“There’s a penalty for saying that, right?” Ray mused, looking at the taller SEAL’s.

“Ten minutes, up against the wall.” Sonny nodded, before he looked over at Full Metal on the other side of Brock, “Ready?”

“You bet…” Full Metal nodded as they prepared to lift Brock over to the wall.

Once they leaned him up against it, Metal gave him a good pat on the shoulder, “Imma put a backpack in front of you so the stretcher don’t slip. And I advice you to keep still. You struggle too much, you might toss yourself out of balance and fall.”

“I really hate you.”

“Whoop, there’s at least five additional minutes…” Clay chuckled.

“You’re too soft on him…” Sonny smirked, “I’d say ten…”

They all laughed a bit at the scowl Brock dealt them.

“Alright guys…” Trent slapped his hands together, “Let’s get this exercise going… Ray, you wanna be the next casualty?”

“Sure.” Ray nodded, “What do I have?”

Trent walked over and looked at a sheet of paper he had placed on a chair, “You can pick, you want to have head trauma, partial amputation of lower limb or GSW to your abdomen.”

“Head trauma…” Ray chuckled and walked over to the middle of the room before he let himself fall to the floor, “Think I’ll just collapse right here, thanks…”

“Alright, I’ll read the case, then we hurry into action.” Trent informed, before he started reading what had happened in the accident scenario before the rest of them ‘got there’.


	26. If you thought the head trauma was bad... - Eric Blackburn

**No 26. IF YOU THOUGHT THE HEAD TRAUMA WAS BAD…**  
Migraine | Concussion | ~~Blindness~~

* * *

“Blackburn… You okay?” Lisa asked as she entered the room and saw her boss sit on one of the chairs. He had his palms pressed against his eyes.

He sighed. “No, but it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Care to let me know what’s bothering you anyway?”

“Migraine.” Blackburn groaned, “Or a cluster headache, just started, haven’t figured it out yet.”

“I didn’t know you struggled with that…” she lowered her voice a bit, in case sound made it worse for him.

“A couple too many concussions way back in the day…” Blackburn sighed, “Catches up with you…”

“Anything you need?”

“Took some OTC pain meds, hoping they’ll work soon.” He sighed, “As long as Ray don’t wear that awful cologne of his, I’ll be okay…”

She nodded to herself, “Want me to find a glass of water and dim the lights until the guys come here?”

“Thank you…”


	27. OK, who had natural disasters on their 2020 bingo card? - Trent and Full Metal

**No 27. OK, WHO HAD NATURAL DISASTERS ON THEIR 2020 BINGO CARD?  
**Earthquake | Extreme Weather | Power Outage

* * *

Extreme weather is never a good day. Doesn’t matter if it’s a snowstorm with hurricane strength in the throws, killer heat, a downpour flushing away land and causing floods, extreme wind or freezing weather which will cause frostbite in minutes.

Earthquakes were worse. Never predictable. A massive force of nature, which no human could tame. A proper quake caused a lot of destruction in itself, and near the coast tsunamis were a very real secondary threat.

And of course, power outages often followed both earthquakes and some sorts of extreme weathers.

* * *

The first thing he noticed after the rumbling subsided was a low groan off to his left.

Sonny pushed himself to his elbows. Gazed out over the dusty mess around him.

“Hello?” he tried.

The groan was cut off, “Hey…”

“Trent, that you?”

“Yeah…” Trent’s voice carried a lot of pain.

“What happened?”

“Earthquake, I think.” Trent swallowed audibly, “You hurt?”

“No…” Sonny replied, “Just a bit out of it. You?”

“Yeah.” Trent winced, “Got something pressing on my right leg. Above my boot.”

“Broken or banged up?” Sonny asked as he started crawling over, something had caved in during the quake and the room height was just above three feet.

“Broken.” Trent bared his teeth, “Don’t think it’s too bad though.”

“You might be right…” Sonny nodded as the dust settled enough for him to take a look at the metal pipe resting on Trent’s leg.

“You know where Clay and Metal are?”

“No…”

“They were right next to me when the shaking started.” Trent bit out, “You can’t see them?”

Sonny shook his head, “No.”

“The thing on my leg feels heavy, gonna take more than you to lift it off.”

“I think you might be right about that…” Sonny frowned, then he keyed his mike, “Clay, Metal, you hear me?”

No answer came.

“Radio was spotty before the quake…” Trent bared his teeth, “You really think it’s gonna work after the building collapsed on us?”

“Prolly not…” Sonny frowned.

* * * 

“Hey, kid… You good?”

Clay coughed a bit, but once the dust didn’t burn too bad inside his lungs anymore he nodded. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

Clay frowned, he thought Metal’s voice was a bit strained. “And you big guy?”

Metal grunted, “Gonna need some help to get up, other than that, I’m good.”

Clay scoffed, “You need help to get up, but you’re good?”

“Well, not all good…” Metal groaned, “Landed bad on my left arm.”

Clay coughed a bit more, but moved over to where Metal laid on his stomach. “So, can’t get up?”

“Either help me, or shut up…” Metal bit out.

Clay smirked, “You want me to roll you over, or?”

“Just get me off my arm… Then I’ll manage on my own.”

Clay prepared to roll Metal over to his back, but flinched away as the older man shouted out in pain when his hand met the man’s shoulder.

* * *

Both Trent and Sonny froze at the sharp cry coming from somewhere.

“Twenty bucks that’s one of them…” Trent grimaced.

“I actually know not to bet against you on this one…” Sonny scrounged up his nose.

“Look, you’re not getting me free on your own…” Trent sighed, “Go see if they need you, or if they can help.”

Sonny frowned.

“Go.” Trent scowled and jerked his thumb towards where the scream had come from, “You’re not getting me loose alone.”

* * * 

“Shit man! I’m sorry!” Clay watched as Full Metal growled against the floor.

“Bro, told you my arm was bust!” he grimaced, balling his right hand into a fist.

“-You said arm, I placed my hand on your shoulder!” Clay grimaced as well, “I’m sorry!”

Clay let Metal take a couple of calming breaths.

“-Shoulder’s a part of the arm.” Metal bit out, “Okay, next try… Roll me over. Don’t care if it hurts…”

“You sure?”

“Like a band aid.” Metal pressed his lips into a thin line, “Gonna hurt just as much to do it slowly. If not more…”

“I’m gonna slip my hand down in front here…” Clay informed as he slipped his hand in front of the left side of Metal’s chest, “That alright?”

“Yeah…”

“Alright, other hand goes on your hip…”

Metal nodded minimally.

“Ready?”

* * *

Sonny made it over to them right at the tail-end of Metal’s howl.

He spent a couple seconds taking in the sight, before he asked, “What happened?”

“Landed on my arm.” Metal gritted out, “Screwed it up.”

“I heard that…” Sonny nodded, “How bad?”

Metal glared over at him.

“So, ready to ‘get up on your own’ now?” Clay tilted his head.

Metal didn’t make a move to get up, “Okay, might’ve misjudged how bad this would feel.”

“Yeah?” Clay frowned, “Let me take a look at your arm?”

Metal nodded, “Just cut my sleeve. Don’t try to undress me…”

Clay nodded, and started working.

* * * 

“Ow, that’s not good…” Sonny frowned once Metal’s arm was exposed.

“Figured that much…” Metal rolled his eyes, “Gotta find some way to stabilize it a bit.”

Clay nodded, “Let’s try to put your arm in a sling, then secure it to your chest.”

Metal nodded, before he used his right arm in order to help bend his neck enough to glance at his left arm, “Oh great, I’ve got two elbows on the same arm…”

“Think you missed one…” Sonny frowned, “I’d say your left has three…”

“Can we get a move on?” Metal winced, “The longer we stay here, the more chance we have of getting caught inside during the first after quake.”

“Shit, I didn’t think about that…” Sonny grimaced, “We’ve gotta get Trent loose.”

“Trent?” Metal looked over at Sonny, “Is he alright?”

“Prolly broke his leg…” Sonny shrugged, “Pinned down under a pipe.”

“Hurry up kid…” Metal set his cold eyes on Clay.

* * *

Trent let out a sigh of relief when he saw Sonny and Clay crawl over to him, with Full Metal a bit behind them.

“Damn, you’re pale…” he frowned when Metal got close enough.

“Don’t worry about it.” Metal clipped, “Gotta get you free and get outta here.”

“Big scary guy’s got a point…” Sonny nodded, “Now, you think you’ll be able to scoot out if Clay and I lift it?”

Trent nodded, “Yeah…”

* * *

Clay and Sonny weren’t able to lift the pipe on their own. Not by a long shot.

“Let me help…”

“No, you’re already hurt…”

“Yeah? Guess what, it doesn’t help Trent or you guys that you’d rather blow out your backs than let me help…”

Clay stalled his attempt at lifting the pipe, looking at the three other guys in turn. “Alright…”

“No-no-no…” Sonny shook his head, “You saw how his arm looked, he’s on the disabled list until further notice.”

“I wouldn’t be lifting with my injured arm…” Metal scowled over at Sonny, “There’s nothing wrong with my right…”

“Come on…” Clay shrugged, “The faster we get this thing off Trent, the faster we’re out of this death trap…”

“Yeah, and right out to the 75mph wind outside…” Sonny frowned.

“Still beats being crushed to death by a collapsed building…” Clay shrugged.

Sonny sighed, but nodded, “Alright… Alright…”

Metal grabbed a hold of the pipe, along with his brothers, and they were finally able to lift it. And Trent could finally crawl out from under the weight which pinned him down.

* * * 

“How bad is it?” Clay asked as he knelt down next to Trent.

Trent shrugged as he pulled the hem of his pant leg up, revealing a swollen bump on his leg and a beginning bruise. “Feels broken. Probably just a simple break though…”

“Alright, let’s get you out of here…” Clay grinned and gave Trent a solid pat on the back, “Ready to get going?”

Trent nodded and rolled over to his stomach, then got up to his knees, ready to start crawling.

* * *

“Think I see the outside, guys…” Sonny grinned, the wind howling close to them was a good indicator that he was right.

“How does it look out there?”

“No idea!” Sonny shot back, “All the lights are off.”

“Yeah, the earthquake probably caused a power outage…” Metal tilted his head, “Or maybe the freaking hurricane did…”

“Yeah, well… Let’s get out of here…” Clay prompted, right as the world started rumbling once again.

“HURRY UP!” Sonny called out over the noise.

* * *

“That was a close one!” Trent shouted over the wind as they sat on the ground outside. The building had caved some more just after they had made it outside.

“Too close.” Sonny agreed, “That’s officially right at the top of the list of things I never want to do again. That and faulty pressure chamber.”

Clay chuckled a little, “Yeah, agree with you there…”

“We should find some shelter, the wind doesn’t seem to let down. We’re practically begging to be hit by something if we’re staying out here…” Trent sighed.

“Yeah…” Metal nodded, shining the beam of a flashlight around in the dark of the night, “But I don’t think the local building codes are made for anything more than a 4 on the Richter’s scale. And I’m pretty sure that first quake was double that, judging by how much damage there is. Plus, I’m not sure if the radios don’t work because of the quake, some technical snafu on our gear or whatever.”

“This is literally the perfect storm.” Sonny frowned, “Everything is set up for maximum destruction, and then we get a freaking massive earthquake on top of it. With aftershocks. And we’re not reaching Jase, Ray or Brock.”

“Or Havoc…”

“It’s 2020, what the hell did you expect?” Metal almost chuckled.

“I did have extreme weather on my 2020-bingo card…” Trent shrugged, “Did not have earthquake set up…”

“2020-bingo card?” Clay asked.

“Some thing I saw online…” Trent shrugged, “Basically pick 25 things you think is going to happen this year, disasters are the popular things to put on it, because like Full Metal said, it’s 2020…”

Clay chuckled a bit.

“I put hurricane, or tornado, on there… Because I figured that was a sure thing.” Trent shrugged, “I also have another ice age on my card, and world wide power outage…”

“DON’T!” Sonny almost barked, “Don’t you dare speak that into existence…”

Trent grinned a bit, “And my personal favorite, brown recluse spiders evolve wings.”

“NO!”

“And of course, eruption of the Yellowstone volcano…”

“Trent, I swear on my dear longhorns, if you don’t shut up right this second…” Sonny almost growled, “I’ll make sure ALL the coffee you drink for the rest of 2020, and 2021, will be filtered through my sweaty socks.”

Clay chuckled, “Maybe best to hold the rest to yourself Trent, that sounds like a serious threat.”

“Well, I also put ‘poisoning of water source’ on there, so…” Trent shrugged a little, “I guess that would count…”

That was enough to make Full Metal chuckle a bit, “Good one, T.”

“About that, we should probably try to get to high ground…” Trent cleared his voice, “We just survived a pretty big earthquake, with an aftershock almost as bad… And we’re uncomfortably near the coast…”

“Yeah… Afraid you’ve got a point…” Clay sighed, “You need someone to lean on?”

“Would take a little too long to crawl to high ground, don’t you think?”

Clay nodded, “Alright… Metal, you good to walk on your own?”

“It’s my arm which took a beating, yeah. Good to go.”

“Sonny, help me out with Trent?”

“You’ve got it Goldilocks…” Sonny said as he stepped over next to Trent, “I sure don’t want to be here when the probable tsunami hits.”

* * *

The way they finally had managed to contact the rest was by calling Havoc on the sat phone. The other part of the team had come up with the same exact idea, and both teams had decided to get to higher ground before making the call.


	28. Such wow. Many normal. Very oops.  - All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, I decided to do something a little different for this prompt.  
> Also, some sort of TRIGGER WARNING [wrist wound] for the Full Metal part here. (Call it second-hand trigger warning?)

**No 28. SUCH WOW. MANY NORMAL. VERY OOPS.**  
Accidents | ~~Hunting Season~~ | Mugged

* * *

** Jason **

“Hey, Trent…”

Trent looked up and saw Jason walking towards him, his right hand pressed down on his left, blood trickling down towards his elbow.

For a second he just stood there dumbfounded as Bravo-1 approached.

“What…?”

“Knife slipped.” Jason explained, “Was hoping you could place a couple of stitches, or just make it stop bleeding.”

“What were you doing?”

“Lost my screwdriver…”

“-you lost your screwdriver?” Trent repeated, “Want to tell me how that correlates with the bleeding cut on your hand?”

“Not really…”

“Let’s just pretend I won’t do anything about it unless you tell me…”

“-I might have used my knife instead of the screwdriver…”

“I knew it!” Trent sighed, “You do know most people realize that’s a bad idea, while they’re still kids…”

“I don’t need a lecture, I need stitches.”

“You need both.”

** Ray **

Sonny looked back when Ray cussed behind him.

He found Ray sitting on the ground, clutching his ankle.

“You good there?”

“Twisted my ankle…” Ray frowned, rubbing at the joint.

“You think you can complete the run, or…?”

“If we were on an OP, I could’ve pushed on, no problems.” Ray shrugged, “But, give me a minute or two…”

Sonny nodded and stepped over in order to sit down on a nearby rock.

** Sonny **

“The hell happened to you?” Metal frowned as Sonny walked in, “You walk into a door or something?”

Sonny grunted, but didn’t answer straight away.

“Okay, don’t answer…” Metal shrugged, “That’s alright…”

“He got suckerpunched at the strip bar last night…” Clay chuckled.

“You did not break the no-touchy rule?” Trent offered up.

“No.” Sonny scowled, “Some guy wanted my wallet. Got a punch in before I knew anything.”

** Trent **

He cussed on the way down. He really thought he had it. He couldn’t remember the last time he had straight out failed an obstacle at the obstacle course.

He cussed even louder once he actually landed.

His left shoulder had made sickening sound. He wasn’t sure if it was an actual sound, or just one of those sounds he thought he heard, cause he could feel it inside his body.

His shoulder gave, and for a couple of seconds there was blissful numbness. Then the cramping pain took over and he rolled to his side.

“Whoa, that looked bad…” Sonny grimaced as he landed the way one was supposed to land, a few feet off to Trent’s side, “Did you hurt yourself?”

Trent nodded as he tried to ride out the initial wave of pain.

“Bad?”

“Think I dislocated my shoulder.” Trent bared his teeth, “Feels like it.”

“Alright… Alright…” Sonny nodded, “You need help back up?”

Trent shook his head as he slowly got up on his knees, supporting his left elbow, “I’ve got this.”

“-You probably want to go see some of the professionals to get that shoulder popped back in, since we’re not on a mission right now. Right?”

Trent nodded.

“You want company walking over there?”

“Sure…” Trent nodded.

** Brock **

He figured it had to be one of the most embarrassing ways to end up limping as a tier-one operator.

It hadn’t been by going full throttle on a mission, it hadn’t been by sparring with Full Metal or Ray, it hadn’t been by faulty safety gear.

No, he came limping into work because he had gotten out of bed in a wrong way. And now he felt about 97 years old.

** Clay **

He couldn’t remember what had happened when he woke up. He was coughing. It felt like he was puking water. Probably not too far from the truth.

“Hey…” Jason grinned down at him, “Thanks for coming back.”

“Wha-” his question was cut short by another violent coughing fit.

“You kinda drowned…” Sonny grimaced.

“-Just a little…” Ray clarified, “Like many did at the 50-meter underwater swim in BUDs…”

Clay coughed some more, “I hated that exercise.”

“Me too, Blondzilla.”

** Full Metal **

“Oops.”

“Oops, what?” Trent directed his eyes at the guy he considered one of his best friends, he knew the man well enough to know that ‘oops’ was one of the worst things you could hear from him.

“Sliced my…” Full Metal paused a bit, “Not sure if I should say hand or arm… Sliced something open.”

Trent’s eyes found Metal’s bleeding hand-wrist-forearm, he wasn’t really sure which part of Metal’s arm was bleeding yet, but it was BLEEDING.

And out of all the stupid things Alpha-1 could do, he just stood there, looking at the blood dripping from his hand.

“PRESSURE!” Trent ordered as he wrapped Metal’s own hand around his wrist, “What happened?”

“I… I don’t know…” Metal shrugged a little, finally able to get his eyes away from his hand, “I really don’t know. I was… I was moving stuff around in the shelves in front of me, and then my wrist stung.”

Trent nodded a little, “I’m gonna go through my kit, find something that’ll stop the bleeding. You keep pressure on the wound until I’m ready.”

Metal nodded a little, visibly paler than usual.

“I feel a little sick.”

“Yeah?” Trent looked up from where he was opening up his kit, “Try to sit down, I don’t want you to pass out.”

“And dizzy.” Metal nodded a little and looked around for somewhere to sit.

“-And keep pressure on it.”

Metal nodded again.

“You still feel your fingers?”

“I think so…” Metal shrugged a little, “Man, that really made me nauseous.”

“The blood?” Trent asked as he found the right dressing and pulled it out of his bag. He had already pulled a tourniquet from his vest.

“No, before it started bleeding.” Metal shuddered, “I think it was pretty deep, looked that way.”

Trent frowned, “Alright, let’s sit you down right here. Then I won’t have to worry about you passing out. Then I’ll put a pressure bandage on.”

“The slick warm feeling isn’t helping…” Metal swallowed as best as he could. He had closed his eyes already, making sure he wouldn’t have to look at it anymore.

“I can’t remember you reacting like this to an injury before…” Trent frowned as he removed Metal’s glove and pushed his sleeve up get a proper view of the wound.

“Don’t tell anyone, alright…”

“Metal, that should be last on your list of priorities right now.” Trent almost scowled as he placed the tourniquet to stop the bleeding while he assessed the wound and placed a pressure bandage which would hopefully be enough to slow the bleeding on it’s own.”

“No-no-no-no…” Metal shook his head, “Not about me acting this way. -My high school sweetheart. She… I can’t stand those kinds of wounds.”

Trent felt his jaw nearly unhinge. He had known the man in front of him since what felt like forever. How did he not know that little piece of information already?

“Feel like I’m gonna puke…” Metal swallowed hard once more.

“Please don’t…” Trent grimaced a little, “But if you do… Aim the other way…”

Metal nodded a little.

“-And, if you need to talk about this… Or that other stuff… You can talk to me. Okay?”

“I know.” Metal nodded, eyes still closed hard, one single wet trail leading down one of his cheeks, “I just buried all those memories in that deep, pitch black place in the back of my mind. Hasn’t really thought about it the last twenty something years.”

Trent looked up from where his hands were working, “Okay. But you’ll let me know if you need anything?”

Metal nodded.

* * *

“What happened here?” Ray asked as he entered the room Trent and Metal were in.

“He sliced himself up on something sharp over there…” Trent jerked his head in the direction of the blood pool where Metal had stood, “Felt a bit nauseous and dizzy.”

“Is it bad?”

“Bad placement, and pretty deep.” Trent nodded, then he indicated the floor with his elbow, “Bled a bit. Don’t move stuff over there in that shelf, we didn’t see what the sharp object was.”

“Copy that…” Ray nodded and grimaced at the scene, “You need any help?”

“No, think I’ve got it…” Trent shook his head, “But, you could see if you find one of those chocolate bars in my rucksack, and some water. Think he could use both.”

Metal nodded a little.

“Yeah, I’ll find something.” Ray nodded.


	29. I think I need a doctor - Clay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I fell a bit behind on this whole Whumptober thing, cause my clinical rotation and my probable endometriosis has whooped my ass the last week or so, and I'm kinda fatigued. (At least this month I haven't played the "Endo or appendicitis"-game, which I'm thankful for. I hate when my right side is worst.  
> I know the Whumptober 2020 challenge is going to be finished in November for my part, but you know what? That's gonna have to be alright.

**No 29. I THINK I NEED A DOCTOR**  
 ~~Intubation~~ | Emergency Room | Reluctant Bedrest

* * *

He didn’t feel well. His stomach was starting to get upset. He felt a bit nauseous, but not more than he could handle.

His morning run was just the same as it always was. Not much more, not much less. Just a stomach he couldn’t quite figure out.

It got a bit worse as he made it into work. But just enough to keep him from eating his regular early lunch. He still chowed down some of it, just not everything, so he didn’t think that much of it.

Then about four hours later, Ray suggested they’d take a run as a team. Not unusual. They did spend a lot of time exercising after all.

* * *

He had kept an eye on Clay ever since the run started. Goldilocks hadn’t looked all that hot at the start of the day, and he looked worse a once lunch rolled around, and even worse at the start of their run.

He had not been prepared for the kid to stumble and fall over on their fifth lap around the track.

The whole team halted, turned and saw Clay clutching his midriff in pain.

“What’s up kid?” Jason panted as he stepped back to where Clay laid.

“You hurt, Clay?” Trent asked as he stepped over and knelt down beside him.

Clay groaned and nodded.

“Stomach?”

Clay nodded again.

“Been feeling a bit unwell all day and now it suddenly exploded, or got way worse?”

Clay nodded again.

“Started near your belly button?”

“Yeah.”

“Now it’s low on your right side?”

Clay nodded.

“We’ve got to get him to the hospital.”

“No-no-no…” Clay winced, “No, I’m good.”

“Bullshit.” Full Metal shook his head, “You’re gonna get a cute little scar added to your collection.”

“Yeah, sounds like appendicitis.” Trent nodded, “Metal’s right, you’re gonna need surgery.”

“Come on, let’s get you over to one of the cars.” Sonny prompted, “Can you stand up or do you need help?”

Clay shook his head, “Gonna need a few minutes to uncurl…”

“Alright, let’s carry him…” Trent snapped his fingers together, “If we’re lucky it hasn’t ruptured yet… Time is of the essence either way.”


	30. Now where did that come from? - Full Metal

**No 30. NOW WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?**  
Wound Reveal | Ignoring an Injury | ~~Internal Organ Injury~~

* * *

It was definitely the last time he was gonna fall for that ‘not mine’ bullshit when one of their own was covered in blood.

But Metal had pulled it off incredibly well, and he hadn’t seen any signs of his brother struggling.

He had seen the blood, but he had not seen anything else which would suggest it was Metal’s. The man had been acting bullet proof as ever, and the dirt and grit he was covered in made it near impossible to see that he was getting paler.

* * *

He had never hit a fellow injured soldier, although he did have the urge to do that right about now.

They had made it back to the C-17, before the man chose to let him in on his little predicament. The blood covering the right side of Metal’s vest had been his own blood. Not someone else’s like he had claimed.

Trent could feel his face turn red with anger. Every cell in his body wanted to teach Metal a lesson in self-preservation. Both his hands curled into fists, as if he didn’t have a say in the matter.

“You do realize how incredibly stupid that was?” he asked as he watched Metal trying to get his t-shirt off.

“Blade broke the first time he stabbed me…” Metal shrugged his left shoulder, obviously mindful of the right side of his chest and his right shoulder, “Not much you can do with a mere inch. Don’t think the rest of the blade made it through my pec even…”

The urge to hit Metal grew stronger.

“I just need a few stitches.” Metal prompted, “Make sure these don’t pop open and start bleeding again. Some pressure and a quick-clot gauze stopped it easily.”

Trent didn’t make a move. Metal hadn’t even managed to get his t-shirt off. He didn’t say anything either, he just stood there, trying to hold back the verbal assault he had roaring inside his brain and the matching punches he was practically trembling to hold back.

“That guy could have collapsed your lung. Could’ve nicked a large artery…” Trent bit out.

“Well, he didn’t.” Metal tilted his head in lieu of a shrug, “Plus, that guy’s dead. I’m here.”

That was obviously the straw that broke the camel’s back. That was triggering enough to cause Trent to reel back and punch Full Metal.

First his right fist, his weak side, hit Metal’s jaw. Then his left fist planted itself at the lowest point of Metal’s sternum, or maybe right below that.

Then strong arms wrapped around his left elbow and pulled him backwards.

In front of him, Metal hunched forward and reached up to steady his shoulder. He coughed a few times as his diaphragm spasmed as a result of the blow to his solar plexus.

“Trent, this isn’t you…” Sonny’s voice was right by his ear, “This is not how you act.”

Metal coughed a few more times, still supporting his right shoulder with his left hand, still hunched over.

Trent was still trembling with anger.

“-Ow…” Metal croaked out as he slowly stood back to his full height, he looked down at his left hand against his right shoulder, blood was trickling out between two of his fingers, “So, stitches or are you gonna deck me again?”

Trent glared over at Metal, “I want to deck you…”

“Trent…” Sonny still had him in a good grip, and the warning tone in his voice told him not to act on what he wanted.

“-But you do need those stitches.” Trent added with a sigh, “And we need to talk about how incredibly stupid you were to hide that from us in the field.”

Metal nodded a little, still holding his hand near his right shoulder.

“-And you don’t get local for those stitches. You deserve to feel them.”

“Easy there, tiger…” Sonny tugged him back a little bit more, “You already punched him, twice. I think he already payed his dues.”

“Wasn’t gonna ask for local…” Metal shrugged his left shoulder a bit, “Was hoping for some tylenol though… -Shoulder is sore…”

* * *

“-Sorry for punching you…” Trent sighed as he closed up the third of the gashes near and around Metal’s shoulder. The impulsive act had gnawed on his conscience for almost five minutes already.

“Probably deserved it…” Metal swallowed, keeping his eyes locked on something hanging from the ceiling of the plane.

“You kinda did.” Trent nodded, “But I shouldn’t have done it anyway…”

“Besides, pretty sure my two year old niece delivers harder punches than that straight right you have.”

Trent chuckled a bit, “That’s just a bit exaggerated…”

Metal smirked a little and looked down at where Trent’s hands were managing forceps, needle driver and sutures.

“I could administer some local anesthetic if it stings too much…” Trent shrugged, not looking up from where his hands were working.

“Nah, I’m good.” Metal sighed, “I can handle a few stitches.”

Trent looked up, then he glanced down at where Metal was supporting his right elbow. “Your shoulder bothering you?”

Metal looked back at the D-ring hanging from the ceiling, “A little. Subluxated it.”

Trent offered up a sympathetic grimace, “Did you get it back in?”

“Slipped back before I even had a chance to get up…” Metal looked back at Trent. “Has that ‘inside-swollen’ feeling. I can’t lift it properly.”

“Can you show me?”

“Not while you’re hacking away at me with that needle…” Metal smirked a bit. “Later.”

Trent nodded and resumed his stitch work. “Just, promise me that next time, you let me know that you’re hurt…”

Metal nodded a little.

“Straight away…” Trent added, “Not this ‘once-we-make-it-back-to-the-plane’ bullshit, okay?”

Metal nodded again.

“-But I’ve gotta say, the blade breaking was a lucky strike.”

“Sure was.” Metal agreed, “I expected that knife to sink in to its hilt.”

Trent almost shuddered at the thought, “Glad that didn’t happen…”

Metal nodded.

* * *

Trent was not impressed by Metal’s attempt at lifting his right arm. Not at all. “I’ve got a suggestion…”

Metal tiled his head, questioningly.

“Sling.”

“No.”

“I know you hate stuff that says ‘I-am-wounded’, but your shoulder will probably be grateful for it. Maybe even ache a bit less.”

Metal frowned.

“Come on now…” Trent shrugged, “Just for a few days, until your shoulder feels better. As sure as the doctors who check you out when we land back home don’t say otherwise.”

Metal sighed, “Alright…”


	31. Today's special: TORTURE - All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I made it..   
> I got through the 31 prompts.  
> Just one day overdue (in my timezone)

**No 31. TODAY’S SPECIAL: TORTURE**  
 ~~Experiment~~ | Whipped | ~~Left for Dead~~

* * *

He struggled against his restraints as he heard the whip impact with skin in the other room and the recipient crying out in pain.

“Save your strength…” a calm, cold voice spoke beside him.

“You do hear that they’re hurting Ray out there, don’t you?” Sonny shot back.

“I do.” Metal sighed, “But we’re STUCK here, no way of getting free before they come to unlock us. Then we’ll get the same treatment.”

Sonny swallowed hard.

“Wearing yourself out now won’t help Ray one bit.” Metal paused to clear his voice, “It just means you’ll have less to fight with when it’s your turn.”

“That mean you have a plan big guy?”

“Maybe.” Metal sighed, “Depends on the layout outside, how many there are and which weapons they have…”

There was another crack of a whip, another cry of pain. And another set of the same.

“I swear, I’m gonna do my damn best to break some skulls…”

If Sonny hadn’t known exactly who he was sharing dungeon with, he would’ve thought a demon or something was sitting next to him. The whispered promise made shivers run down his spine, even though he knew he wasn’t the one who’s skull would be broken.

* * *

He didn’t know how much time had passed before the screams died down to tired whimpers of pain, and it sounded like someone shouted an order in the local language.

There was some movement outside, but nothing he really could pinpoint. Then the door opened and the light blinded him momentarily.

A barked commando he didn’t understand led three men to walk over to Sonny.

The men started unlocking his restraints.

“Hey, I’m much more fun…” Full Metal clicked his tongue and tried to tap the toe of his boot against the leg of the closest of their capturers.

The closest guy twisted around and kicked delivered a kick to Metal’s right leg which would’ve made any soccer player proud.

Metal choked off a yelp, swallowed and tried again. “I promise, that guy won’t give you anything. Like at all. He’s made of stone. Equally dense as well, to be honest.”

“You Americans talk too much…” one of the other men sighed in broken English, “Talk, talk, talk. None of it of importance.”

“-I talk a lot, yeah.” Metal smirked, “Maybe I’ll even say the right things. -The guy next to me, I’ve worked with him for almost nine years, I don’t know his first name. He’s not telling us. Believe me, whatever you want from him… You’re only gonna wear down your tools.”

Sonny could’ve kissed Metal for his attempt at drawing the attention away from him, but he was pretty sure that would end in him with a broken neck, or choked out at least.

“Hey, pretty-boy… I’m your guy!” Metal toed the same guy again, earning himself yet another expert kick in the leg. Biting back another yelp.

Deep down he knew that whatever Metal tried, it wouldn’t change anything. The guys head their minds set on taking him first. But he appreciated the effort.

He was pulled to his feet, and realized that the three guys were a lot stronger than they looked.

“Quinn, you’ve got this.” Was the last words he heard Metal say before he was pulled outside, down the hall and into another room.

* * *

Fury boiled within him at the screams from down the hall. If his counting was correct, he was the last one to get the treatment. There had been six sets of screams all in all, Sonny included.

Which probably meant ALL of his brothers were hurt to some degree already.

* * *

He was unsure of how much time had passed when the door opened once again and they dragged Sonny back in. He was bloodied and bruised, and hung limply between two of the guys. The third one got the restraints ready. 

Then a few moments later, they had him.

* * *

He started pumping himself up as they walked down the hall.

His breathing changed, most of his muscles tensed, he had to fight to keep his arms somewhat relaxed. If he failed, the guys holding him would know. Because he knew there was a definite difference between the ‘Oh-crap,I-don’t-wanna-go-there’ tenseness, and the ‘I’m-about-to-kill-all-of-you’ tenseness.

His heartrate picked up. His mouth went dry. He didn’t feel hungry anymore. His peripheral autonomic nervous system kicking into sympathetic response just like he hoped. 

If anyone had looked him in his eyes at that moment, they probably would have seen his pupils take up most of the space of his irises. Like a predator about to strike.

They led him into the room they had prepared. It smelled of stale blood and fear.

He let his eyes trail around the room. Counted people, counted guns. Looked for edge-weapons as well.

Five guys. Three guiding him towards the restraints in the middle of the room, one standing in the corner holding a pistol, and the commander of sorts.

None of the others had guns at the usual easy access points, if they had any at all, they were on concealed lower-leg holsters or something like that. Which would give him a couple of seconds to act.

He saw four easily accessed knives. The pistol guy had one in a holster by his right hip, two of the guys who was guiding him wore theirs the same way, the last guy who guided him had his by his left hip. Either he liked to cross-draw, or he was a lefty.

His adrenal glands were working hard, spewing out GO-GO juice in bulk.

He knew he would lose if they got even one restraint on him. Knew the only way he would win was to act like a flash-bang and shock them. -A lot of noise and a good shock effect. Hell, he’d go full home-wrecker on them if he had to.

* * *

He waited to the guy who was gonna put the restraints on him was about ready to put the first one on his right wrist. Then he pulled his hands across his body, before jamming his elbows outward and upward, hitting one of the guys holding him in the face and the other one in the throat.

Not stalling to look how the guys were doing, he grabbed the third guy’s shoulder with one hand and jammed his elbow up against the man’s face before he turned the now disoriented man around and used him as a human shield as he stormed towards the guy with the gun.

* * *

The sight of the American going completely manic was unlike anything he had ever seen before.

He managed to squeeze off a couple of bullets before the large man was on top of him.

One blow from the man’s fist sent him flying against the concrete wall behind him.

The back of his head smacked against the wall, he went down like a marionette with its string cut.

* * * 

He tossed the guy he had used as a shield to the side and jumped the guy who had shot at him. He forced the gun out of his hands and twisted around to take a look at the rest of the room, his newly acquired gun in his left hand tracing from the two guys unconscious on the middle of the floor and over to the commander guy who stood frozen.

“Where’s the keys?” he growled, trying to ignore the screaming of his right shoulder.

“-You’re bleeding…” the man was still frozen in shock.

Metal hadn’t gotten around to check his shoulder yet. He knew it hurt like hell, but that was about it. “I know. Your guy shot me. Now, where’s the key to the other rooms.”

The leader lifted a shaking hand and pointed to the human shield guy. “He has the keys.”

“All of them?” Metal asked, “For the restraints and the doors leading out as well?”

The leader nodded a little.

Metal pulled the trigger, and the guy went down. Then he chanced a glance down at his shoulder. It was definitely bleeding a fair share, but he wasn’t really alarmed by it yet.

The thing he didn’t like though, was that his right arm felt dead. On second thought, not really dead. He just couldn’t lift it.

“Well, that’s a problem…” he winced to himself, before he brought the gun back up and ejected the mag, and the bullet in the chamber.

The magazine was designed for 17 rounds. It had 13 left.

“Alright, better make them count…” he sighed as he prepared the pistol and switched the safety back on.

He checked over the other guys, making sure they didn’t have any guns or spare mags he could steal, before he delivered a couple of hard hits which almost guaranteed that they wouldn’t come looking for them before they were out of country, if ever. He didn’t use any bullets for the job, he had to conserve ammo in case things went even more sideways than it already had.

Then he took the keys and went to get his guys.

* * *

He opened the first door down the hallway. Found Clay and Jason.

Both jerked a little at the bright light flooding the room.

“Relax. It’s me.” He grumbled as he headed over to them and unlocked one of Jason’s wrists, “Here’s some keys, I’m gonna stand guard by the door.”

Jason nodded as he grabbed the keys, unlocked his other wrist and then unlocked the restraints around Clay’s wrists.

“You guys okay?”

“Don’t think I’ll wear a shirt for a few weeks…” Clay winced, “Other than that, yeah. Good to go.”

“Yeah, same…” Jason nodded as moved out into the hallway. Then, when Metal wasn’t backlit by the hallway light anymore, he saw the blood soaking some of Metal’s shirt. “You get shot?”

“Yeah.” Metal admitted, “Let’s just get out of here as quick as we can, alright?”

Jason realized that it wasn’t up for debate, and nodded.

* * *

Trent wanted to cuss once the door opened and light flooded into the little room where their capturers had tossed him, Ray and Brock.

A second later Jason was in front of him, unlocking his restraints.

“We’re getting outta here guys…” Jason offered up a tired smile.

Trent took the offered hand as help up. Then he limped into the hallway to meet Clay and Full Metal.

He saw Clay look about the same as he guessed he did himself. What shocked him though was Metal’s appearance.

Without really thinking he reached out to grab his arm, causing the taller man who hadn’t really paid attention to him to almost hit his knees.

Metal hissed and steadied his upper arm, “Don’t touch.”

“Shit, sorry…” Trent frowned, “What happened?”

Metal glared back at him, his chest rising and falling faster as he tried to get the pain back under control. “What does it look like? -I got shot.”

“Anything I can do?”

“Yeah.” Metal nodded mechanically, “Don’t touch my arm before we’re outta here.”

“Having your arm down like that could put a strain on whatever injury that bullet caused…”

“Well, it’ll just have to wait until we’re outta this place.” Metal grumbled, “You don’t have your medic bag anyway, and I for one don’t want any of those guys buddies to come back, I’ve got 13 bullets, that’s it.”

“Alright, but maybe someone else should take the gun? Someone who don’t have to shoot offhand?”

Metal nodded a little and handed the gun over to Trent.

“I didn’t mean me…” Trent shrugged before he handed the gun over to Clay instead, “Okay, I see everyone but Sonny…”

“Yeah, he’s in that room over there…” Metal pointed towards the correct door, “They really roughed him up. Might need help moving.”


End file.
